The locations of the MBPS classrooms are changing. With the warm weather here, it is time to take to the waterways and practice what we have learned in our classes. Thanks to the dedication of our instructors and proctors and the efforts of our students, the waters around Long Island are just a bit safer.

P/C Mike Pappas, AP has asked me to order the final exams for eight hard working students in his class.

We are planning for the courses MBPS will offer next fall. The possible choices are: SEAMANSHIP, PILOTING, ADVANCED PILOTING, JR. NAVIGATION, NAVIGATION, WEATHER, ENGINE MAINTENANCE, MARINE ELECTRONICS, WEATHER, SAIL, CRUISE PLANNING AND INSTRUCTOR QUALIFICATION. If you’re interested in taking one or more courses or if you would like to serve as an instructor or proctor, let me know.

in Manhasset Bay

form up at Plum Point

Dress: Uniform D or white shirt / white trousers suggested

The afternoon wore on. We kids were getting restless. To get some peace and quite, the grownups anchored Pas de Quoi off Bayville beach. We kids piled into PDQ, a sturdy 12’ wooden dinghy, and set off for shore. About an hour later we became aware of much activity on Pas de Quoi. Dad was sounding the horn; Moss was ringing the bell; mom and Fran were frantically waving the American flag. Their intent was clear, "Get back to the boat right away".

We pushed PDQ off the beach, climbed in and rowed with all our might. Dad pointed to the west and yelled for us to hurry. The whole sky had turned an ominous gray/black.

Later we learned that the adults had been listening to the Yankees baseball game on the portable AM radio. The static became so severe they couldn’t hear the announcer. Static meant a storm was near. The game was halted. Dad knew he had to get the boat to open water. Our location, anchored off Bayville with a storm coming in from the northwest, put us on a lee shore. We were in danger of being blown on the beach, or worse yet, the rocks that dot the shore line at that point. The tide was low and we could see enormous waves already crashing on the shelf of rocks. Moss fired up the 250 hp Chrysler engine and dad was preparing to raise the anchor.

As soon as we were on board, we snapped the harness on the dinghy and dad hauled in the anchor. Everyone put on life jackets. Moss headed the boat away from the shore. We were able to get about ½ mile off; visibility lowered and the beach faded from sight. The waves built up to 6 feet in a matter of minutes. Our course for home, Port Chester harbor, was about 350°, almost into the teeth of the storm. Moss needed all his strength to hold the boat on a safe heading, quartering the waves. The dinghy was taking a terrible beating and was filling with water.

A few minutes later, the shackle on the dinghy tow line broke. The line whipped across the cockpit, the shackle narrowly missing two of the teenagers who were sitting on the engine cover. Dad watched PDQ pitch away on the steadily increasing waves. He tried to persuade Moss to turn back for the dinghy, but Moss wisely refused. Turning the 5½-ton boat broadside to the waves would have been dangerous move. We could broach and capsize.

Moments later dad said, "I suppose you’re not going to turn around for that guy floating on a hatch cover over there, either." There was a man out there, hanging on to a piece of debris. Moss made a careful maneuver to starboard and headed for the swimmer; dad uncoiled the line and prepared to throw the ring buoy. He made several attempts, but the buoy either fell short or was blown off to the side. (Fifty years later my friend, Lorraine, who was on board that day, told me I actually snatched the ring buoy from dad and threw it well upwind, the way we girls had been taught in Red Cross Water Safety classes. On my first attempt the buoy drifted down perfectly to the swimmer.)

Luckily, in our haste to get underway, we had not removed the portable swim ladder from the starboard rail. We got a line around his chest and tried to haul him on board, but he took one look at all the teenage girls in the cockpit and held back. He was wearing only white underwear, very thin, very wet and very revealing. Finally, fear overruled modesty and he allowed us to bring him on board. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin waterlogged. His throat was raw, his voice raspy. We gave him some dry clothes and wrapped him in blankets. Mom gave him hot tea from a thermos and dad poured some rum in it.

When he was able to speak, he told us his name was Paul Hill and he was out of Northport. He had been sailing in his 28’ sailboat with three men he had met in the supermarket only that morning. He didn’t know their names, just referred to them as Jim and Tom and the other guy. They had been below and hadn’t seen the storm coming. Sensing a change in the wind, he came on deck. There wasn’t time to drop the sails. His three guests were still below when the first gusts hit. The sailboat took an immediate knockdown, filled with water and sank.

Mr. Hill was thrown clear and was able to grab on to the hatch cover, an act that surely saved his life. The other three men didn’t have a chance, were trapped below and went down with the boat.

When his hands stopped shaking, Mr. Hill signed our log. His message was simple. All he said was, "Thank God you were there."

For the better part of an hour we made absolutely no headway. Oak Point remained on our port beam; all the familiar landmarks held their relative positions. The engine was at full throttle, but its power was matched by the waves and we did not move ahead. Thoughts of running out of fuel plagued us, but no one mentioned the possibility.

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the storm subsided, and Pas de Quoi got up to her 6 knot cruising speed. An hour later we arrived in Port Chester. We called Mr. Hill’s wife who came to pick him up.

Dad reported the incident to the Coast Guard.

We never heard from Mr. Hill again.

A hurricane is a type of tropical cyclone – the general term for all circulating weather systems over tropical waters. Tropical cyclones are classified as follows:

• Tropical Depression – An organized system of clouds and thunderstorms with a defined circulation and maximum sustained winds of 33 knots or less.
• Tropical Storm – An organized system of strong thunderstorms with a defined circulation and maximum sustained winds of 34 to 63 knots.
• Hurricane – An intense tropical weather system with a well defined circulation and maximum sustained winds of 64 knots or higher.

A NOAA Weather Radio is the best means to receive warnings from the National Weather Service (NWS). The NWS continuously broad-casts updated hurricane advisories. Weather Radios are sold in many stores. The NWS recommends purchasing a radio that has both a battery backup and tone-alert feature which automatically alerts you when a watch or warning is issued. A portable VHF Marine Radio with a NOAA weather channel is an excellent radio for this purpose.

Whether your boat is at a mooring or a dock, take early precautions to avoid damage by severe winds and storm surge. Double and triple up on lines. Remove all loose fittings and equipment: Dodgers, biminis, sails, fenders, dinghys, etc. Secure everything in cabin. Take as much as you can home or to another safe place.

Stay inside a well constructed building.

• Turn refrigerator to maximum cold and open only when necessary.
• Turn off utilities if told to do so by authorities.
• Turn off propane tanks.
• Unplug small appliances.
• Fill bathtub and large containers with water for sanitary purposes.

Plan in advance what you will do if winds become strong. Strong winds can cause everyday articles to become deadly missiles.

• Stay away from windows and doors.
• Take refuge in a small interior room, closet or hallway.
• Close all interior doors. Secure and brace exterior doors.
• Lie on the floor under a table or other sturdy object.

President Clinton recently ordered that the so-called differential (a method which deliberately distorted the data beamed from satellites to GPS systems) be eliminated.

Hand-held and installed GPS navigation systems are very popular with boaters. The decision to end the intentional degradation of the signal will make these instruments 10 times more accurate. Before the change, a position read on a civilian receiver could be as much as 100 yards off the mark. Now, the Coast Guard estimates that the margin of error will be only about 15 feet.

The administrator of NOAA predicted that sales of GPS goods and services, which now total $8 billion annually, will double by 2003.

10 June Sat. MBPS Rendezvous @ Bar Beach, Roslyn

07-10 June W-Sa USPS National Governing Board