In an effort to gain offshore experience I am a member of a captain/crew networking organization. I signed up to move a Swan 48 from Saint Martin to Bermuda then on to NYC. There were 6 crew total including the Captain. We left on a Sunday under sunny skies and 15-20 KT winds. Glorious sailing on a broad reach for three days. Due to the lack of experience of some of the crew we rigged a preventer on the boom. We then went on to do some wing on wing sailing. The boat was clocking 13 knots surfing down the waves. On the evening of day three we were sailing towards thunderstorms on the horizon. We picked a spot where the lightning seemed less intense and sailed for it. We removed the spinaker pole we were using for wing on wing and kept the preventer still on a broad reach. I went to bed at the end of my watch and got up at 3 AM for my next watch. I went on deck and was surprised to see we were still sailing under full main and a partially rolled jib. We were doing 12-13 knots. Lightning all around us, it was so frequent that it seemed like daylight. The captain was at the wheel. At around 0400 he asked me to go to the foward cockpit to handle the preventer. The end of the boom was going in the water and we needed to loosen the preventer to avoid snapping the boom. By then we were in the middle of a storm. Raining hard and the wind whistling by. The captain realized we needed to get rid of the main so he ordered me to get the halyard ready to douse the main. The wind by now picked up, had to be at least 40-50 KTS. The rain was hitting my FWG so hard and combined with the wind noise it was deafening. Now the captain yells at me to let go of the main halyard. I can't hear him so I am trying to communicate with him watching the boom go way in the water, letting more of the preventer out as it does. Then suddenly it happens. The mast starts to collapse bending just above the goose neck. It was such a surreal moment. Seemed like it happened in slow motion. As the mast went over the boom came over towards me, I ducked and the whole main came down on me covering me up in a little cocoon making all the noise go away. It was now totally quiet.I was in the foward cockpit with the sail over me for a few seconds waiting to wake up from my dream. Then I heard the Captain's voice "I can't believe it" and I also heard a crew member in the after cockpit yelling at me asking if I was alright. I climbed out and went back to the after cockpit looking at the scene foward. The storm quickly past and we were now dead in the water. This is what the people in the Titanic must have felt after they hit the iceberg. It was 0400. First thing we did was salvage the 4 five gallon jerry jugs of fuel that were close to going overboard under the rigging. We waited till morning to start cutting the rigging using bolt cutters and to ensure hull integrity. We cut it all off and let the jib and main sink to the bottom of the ocean. With the rig gone we started the engine, woohoo it started and the prop is not fouled and we started motoring to Bermuda. 400 NM to go with 20 gallons in the jerry jugs and whatever the boat carries which I think was 55 gallons. During the following days the wind was blowing wickedly, the swells at least 20 feet high mostly on the beam but not breaking, Thank God!. About two days out of Bermuda the auto pilot quits. Great! Now we have to handsteer. 9 NM out of Bermuda we are feeling good, we are going to make it! Suddenly the engine dies! But it looked like we had fuel left! So we go below and start bleeding the engine. No luck. One curious thing was that the hand pump you use to prime the lines located before the secondary filter would not go full stroke. I rtemember from a MAck Boring Class I went to that when that happens you need to crank the engine for a second so the pump sits at a differnt spot on the crankshaft. We did but no luck. Anyway we can't get the engine running so we call Bermuda Radio (Kind of Bermuda's Coast Guard) and let them know of our situation. They arrange for a incoming sailboat, Sunshine Daydream, to come meet us and give us a 5 gallon jerry can of fuel. Sunshine Daydream had two crew on board, husband and wife. They showed up at dusk. Watching them maneuver through the swells and getting the boat in position was quite the scene. I was all choked up. We had deployed about 500 feet of line with a fender and a bowling at the end for them to pick up downstream and advised them to hook up the jerry can to the bowling using a carabiner. They did and we successfully brought the can aboard. We poured it in the tank, more bleeding, no luck. Finally the battery goes dead. We advise Bermuda Radio and they arrange for a incoming Cat, the Red Leopard to rendevous with us and tow us in. There ETA was approx 0000. In the mean time we kept trying to get the engine started. We disconnected the 24 Volt house Batt (4-6 volt batteries in series, did some surgery to turn it into 12 volt, reconnected to the engine but no luck. Finally Red leopard showed up. For the tow we set up a bridle using 1" line on the bow and then the 1" tow line going thru the bridle. At the end of the tow line we attached a smaller line with a fender attached to the end and deloyed it into the water for Red Leopard to retrieve. We successfully set it up and were slowly towed into Bermuda. We dropped anchor in St. Georges at 0200. The next morning a fellow cruiser gave us a dingy ride to shore to take our battery for a recharge. We kept working on the engine till we finally figured out what was going on. The vent on the tank was clogged drawing a vacuum and causing the engine to lose suction and die. That is why the manual fuel pump would not stroke due to the vacuum. Once we cleaned out the vent the priming pump stroked freely, we bled and started the engine moving the boat to the dock. Miller time! Part II to follow. Java asked me to post this story even though it is not Hunter realated. Sorry for being so wordy. I have a picture of the Swan's mast. Maybe Java can post it as a followon since I do not know how.
