I mentioned the Bristol 32 I saw blown up in Boothbay. Here is an excerpt from their story about the disaster.
[FONT="]"By mid-afternoon, it was raining. Back on board for dinner, they prepared something new on the little galley stove: stir-fry Thai chicken.[/FONT]
[FONT="]As a precaution, propane tanks are usually contained inside a box that vents outside the boat. That was the case with Chanticleer: the tank was contained in a box under a seat cushion in the cockpit. A hole in the bottom of the locker allowed leaking gas to flow overboard above the waterline. But a previous owner of Chanticleer had modified the design, leaving the regulator outside the box. From this point, leaking gas could only drop into the bilge. [/FONT]
NOTE: This was not an ABYC compliant LPG installation!
[FONT="]
[/FONT]
[FONT="]And on that rainy April evening in Boothbay Harbor that’s exactly what the leaking propane began to do. At first, the fuel collected in a pocket just above the keel. When that filled, the propane spread under the floorboards, the cloud expanding forward and aft. Gradually, the propane level rose, like invisible water in a bathtub. When the bilge was filled, propane seeped into the lower cabinets, mingling with tools, engine parts and emergency supplies. “I had emergency electrical kits, filters, nuts, bolts, lots of hardware,” Baker said. There were dishes, silverware, glassware,” he said. Had Baker or Plamondon gotten down on all fours, they might have smelled the propane, since an unpleasant scent is added to the otherwise colorless and odorless gas. They would have known something was wrong. Instead, as the propane rose around their feet, they busied themselves with preparing supper, oblivious to the danger that had invaded their quiet evening. All the gas needed was a spark or flame to set it off.[/FONT]
[FONT="]By suppertime, a cold rain drummed overhead. Below deck, it was cozy. By the tiny coal stove, it was warm enough for bare feet and a T-shirt. Plamondon was at the two-burner cookstove, tossing veggies and chicken into the heavy-duty wok. Baker put on a favorite Willy Nelson CD, “The Healing Hands of Time,” then opened the hatches to let out the smoke that the wind kept blowing back down the stack into the cabin from the coal stove. “Finally, I got it regulated,” he said. “We were just vegging out. I had just mixed a Sundowner – rum and orange juice.” In the next moment, Plamondon was slammed violently backward.[/FONT]
[FONT="]
[/FONT]
[FONT="]“I remember flying backward through the air and landing on my back and butt,” she said. “I remember Kira’s blood-curdling yelping.”[/FONT]
[FONT="]Somewhere on the boat, the swelling cloud of propane had found its spark, exploding in an instant of extreme violence. The flash shocked their pupils closed. Suddenly, all was dark. “I just felt the tremendous devastation of the blast,” Baker said. “Stuff was flying everywhere. I couldn’t find Kira. I thought it was the middle of the night. I was scrambling around, feeling for her.” Plamondon was thrown against a bulkhead door.[/FONT]
[FONT="]
[/FONT]
[FONT="]“Everything was dark,” she said. “(Phil) screamed at me to get out of the boat, but there were no more stairs.”[/FONT]
[FONT="]She turned to exit forward, but the door was jammed closed from debris piled up from the blast. She turned again to exit toward the cockpit and saw a ball of fire on top of the engine, where the stairs would have been. “No way could I jump that,” she said. “But I did. I don’t know how, but I did it.” Baker reached for a fire extinguisher, but the bulkhead where it had been mounted was gone. “I thought if I got the fire out, we’d have an easier time getting off the boat,” he said. Somehow, he managed to get out of the cabin with Kira. [/FONT]
[FONT="]About a hundred yards away, dockmaster Peter Chase was aboard his boat at the Tugboat Inn Marina. “I heard an explosion. It shuddered my boat. It almost reminded me of someone touching off a cannon,” he said. “I went up on deck and looked around.”[/FONT][FONT="]
[/FONT]
[FONT="]By then, they had managed to climb off the boat into the dinghy, carrying the lifeless body of Kira. “It was pouring rain, freezing rain, and we were barefoot,” said Baker. In the boat, he got a better look at Plamondon, who had taken the worst of the blast. Her face was blackened and her hair singed short. Her eyebrows were burned off. Her eyelashes were singed together. Her jeans were torn. Her hand was bleeding. She thought she had a broken leg. In his lap, Baker felt Kira’s crispy fur and saw her staring eyes. “Kira’s dead,” he said. “I had lost the boat, Kira was dead, Debi was crying,” said Baker. “It was awful.” Then, he felt Kira’s tiny chest move. Miraculously, Chanticleer’s trio of passengers, now huddled in the rain in the tiny dinghy, had all survived. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Chanticleer[/FONT][FONT="] was not so fortunate. Having absorbed most of the force of the blast, her hull was declared a total loss. The blast cracked apart the fiberglass deck in several spots. Stuck in the jagged fissures were the remains of the meal that never got eaten: pieces of broccoli and red pepper. The deck was separated from the hull along the starboard rail. The wood around the cockpit was splintered. Below deck, it looked like someone had ransacked the place. Drawers and contents were scattered about. [/FONT][FONT="]Baker said he would receive a $35,000 insurance settlement, most of which will go to the bank. Safety experts say he is lucky to be around to collect any of it.[/FONT]
[FONT="]“They were very fortunate to have survived,” said Jeff Ciampa, a marine safety inspector for the Coast Guard. Baker and Plomondon are convinced that opening the hatch shortly before the explosion to let the smoke out gave the force of the explosion somewhere to go.[/FONT]
[FONT="]There was very little fire damage to the boat, probably because the propane mixture was rich enough to detonate, but too lean to ignite, said Steve Dixon, an investigator from the Maine State Fire Marshal’s office. Dixon said the source of ignition appears to have been the open flame on the galley stove. Initially, it was thought to be a spark belowdeck somewhere in the boat’s 12-volt electrical system. “We are 100 percent sure it wasn’t that,” said Dixon. “Both the bilge pump and the water pump are protected.”[/FONT]
[FONT="]Plamondon’s first- and -second-degree burns have healed. What she thought had been a broken leg was a bruise that turned her lower leg black and blue for several weeks. A penny-sized puncture wound in the back of her hand –possibly from the handle of the wok – eventually healed. She later had surgery to remove a piece of glass from her hand. The shard had come from a lead crystal glass that Baker had given her earlier as a gift.[/FONT]
[FONT="]Once, he awoke convinced that the boat he had worked so hard on was salvageable. “I went up to see it. I thought I could rescue it if I had two years. I drove up to Boothbay. It was very discouraging. I’d forgotten how bad it was. I had to abandon the idea.”[/FONT]
[FONT="]But neither Baker nor Plamondon has abandoned cruising. And neither thinks twice about using propane again, though Baker said next time he’ll install a propane sensor in the bilge. Since the accident, they have spent their weekends boat hunting." [/FONT]
[FONT="]
[/FONT]