by Rex Saunders
Around 3: 30 p.m., the cellphone in my shirt pocket began to ring. I answered and it was my wife, Irene. She said, “The two boats that went out when you went out are in now.” She was talking about Verrick and Roger Patey’s boats. “It started to blow a bit in here, so you better get in here.”
I said, “Okay.”
“Where are you? Do you have either seal?”
“Yes, maid,” I replied, “I got nine now.”
“That’s good. Come in now.”
“I’m leaving now,” I said. “I’m about four or five miles off Griquet Cape or White Cape. I’ll be home in an hour or so. I got a bit of ice to poke through, then I’ll be in to the wharf.”
I put the phone back into my shirt pocket. I had the motor about half-throttle when I looked around behind me, and there were two more young harps on a pan. I figured, I’ll get those two, then I’ll be on my way home.
I wasn’t in any big hurry because there wasn’t any wind and the sun was shining. I was looking at the two on the ice pan, which was about twenty or thirty feet long, and about fifteen to twenty feet wide. I grabbed the throttle and pulled her out of gear and waited for the boat to strike the ice on her bow and bounce off, so I could put her in gear and go on again, just like I did a hundred times. I’m sure everyone who has been sealing in a speedboat or longliner has done the same.
My boat didn’t bounce off the ice pan like I thought she would. Instead, she ran up on the pan of ice and tipped to one side, and the nine seals fell down on her side. I looked back and I saw water coming in over the gunnels. I got up on the other side, trying to take the gunnels out of the water, but it was too late. She was going over, bottom-up. The next thing I saw was water about a foot or so from my face. I took a deep breath and held on. The next thing I knew, I was underneath the boat. I quickly came up above the surface and gasped for a breath of air. It was then I realized I had a mouthful of salt water. I spit it out and my bottom set of false teeth flicked out and dropped out of my reach, into the water.
My floater suit had me pinned to the bottom of my boat. Somehow I got hold of the steering wheel and the gunnel and pulled myself down. If I hadn’t unzipped my suit earlier, I would not be here now, because I would not have been able to pull myself down. My shirt was open and the water poured inside, and that allowed me to be able to pull myself down and out from underneath my boat.
The water was very cold. My wool cap was gone and I had nothing on my hands. I tried to climb up on the bottom of my boat, but that was impossible. I got hold of the keel with one hand and the gunnel with the other hand, but the boat was twisting and turning. I had to let go and swim to an ice pan about twenty feet away. I tried to pull myself up on the ice pan at three or four places, but I couldn’t get up at all. I almost made it up, but the buckle on my floater suit would get caught on the edge of the ice pan. I put my hand down to try to get it free, but this made me slide back down into the water again. I tried again, but I was only tearing the skin off my fingers.
The ice was too hard and slippery to hold onto, so I looked at my boat. She was still bottom-up and going down by the stern. The weight of the motor was pulling her down. I swam back to the stern, the lowest part and easiest to climb up on. I got hold of the keel and the gunnel and slowly pulled myself along the bottom, until finally I could reach the ring in the middle of the stem. I got my two fingers in the ring and pulled myself up on the bottom of the boat. I put my two knees together and held onto the ring with both hands. As I watched the boat slowly drifting toward a bigger ice pan, I thought, If only she stays afloat long enough to reach that ice pan, I’ll get off and I’ll be okay. I could feel the boat slowly sinking below me as I held on. Finally, she hit the ice and I just fell over on my side onto the ice pan.
The boat disappeared about ten minutes later. She sank to the bottom. There was no sign of anything from the boat; neither the gaff nor paddle floated up. I had emptied my five-gallon can of gas into the gas tank about an hour or so before and placed the empty can on top of the seals. I saw only one dead seal floating around. He must have come out of the boat.
I didn’t expect to see my survival bucket. That’s the five-gallon bucket I have, with all my survival things in it, like tarpaulin, flares, matches, flare gun, candles, and a small propane stove with two green propane tanks, a wool cap, socks, and gloves. If I got stuck in the ice or my motor broke down, all I had to do was pull the tarpaulin over the front part of the boat and I’d have a real nice place to lie down. I called it a five-gallon bucket, but it was probably seven or eight gallons. I don’t know where I got it. Anyway, it was a big bucket with a tight cover on it. It was waterproof, and I kept it in one of the lockers so I could get at it if I needed it. I thought for sure I would soon see the empty five-gallon gas can afloat, but I didn’t. And as for the five-gallon can full of gas, I thought that one had sunk with the boat.
My boat was a very nice boat. It was a 19-foot Seabreeze with a walk-through windshield, and my motor was a Mercury 50-HP four-stroke BigFoot. I only had the boat three years, and the motor five years. I had a brand new .223 sealing rifle and about twenty boxes of bullets, and a twelve-gauge goose gun with about seven or eight boxes of slugs, just in case something went wrong with the rifle, or if I could get a better shot at seals in the water with slugs. It’s hard to get a seal in the scope of a rifle when it’s blowing a bit. I lost about $15,000 in all. That was a very big loss to me, but I was on the ice pan walking around, when I could have gotten stuck underneath my boat and gone to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean with her.
The first thing I did when I got on the pan of ice was get my cellphone out and try to call my wife, but of course the phone was dead. Then I started walking around the ice pan. I was very cold. The pan of ice was about twenty feet wide and about forty feet long. It had one small clump of ice on it about the size of a five-gallon bucket. It was hard and shiny. I put my hand on it and the water was running off of it. I said to myself, “Oh my goodness, I can’t sit on that. I’ll freeze to death,” but I had to sit down somewhere and get my boots and socks off, or I really would freeze to death much quicker. After walking around the pan a few more times, I sat on the clump of ice. Boy, oh boy, it was cold. My floater suit was already soaking wet where I had opened up my collar and the water had flowed in. I managed to get my two boots off and wring the water out of my socks. Then I turned my boots upside down and let the water drain out. Next, I took my two socks and wrung the excess water out and dried them off as well as I could. I wrung out my socks again, put them back on, then my boots, and my feet felt nice and warm.
I sang out, “Help!” three or four times, just in case there was another boat around that might hear me. But that didn’t work. There were no other boats around.
I didn’t worry much, because I was just talking to my wife no more than half an hour ago. She was always nervous about me being out in the boat, because of my heart condition, so I figured she’d be contacting somebody soon after I was supposed to be home. I had brothers and friends with boats. My brother Wade had a 35-foot longliner and my friends Alvohn and Tim Pilgrim had a 40-foot longliner, so I knew she’d have somebody on the go. And she did. The first one she called was my brother Wade, and Wade called the Coast Guard. Soon there was a big crowd looking for me. I would be okay, she thought. I was on this ice pan, just walking around, singing out and praying that someone would find me soon. There was a lot of daylight left yet; the sun was high in the sky. I figured it was around four o’clock when my watch stopped.
I just kept walking around the ice pan, hoping to find something from my boat, but nothing could be seen, except for my wool cap that was on a small piece of ice about a couple of hundred feet away. I just kept saying to myself, “It won’t be long now before someone will find me, because I told Irene where I was.”
A short time later I saw two longliners. They were a long way from me, but it made me feel better knowing they were looking for me, for sure.
Then I heard a
helicopter. By this time it was dark. I heard the helicopter long before I saw the lights. When I saw her first, she was circling the ice pans scattered around the water. Then she came and shone the light all around the pan I was on, but the crew didn’t see me. That was very discouraging, but I said to myself, “At least they’re searching in the right place for me, and they’ll find me by and by.”
Then I saw another helicopter coming. She was coming straight toward me and I thought this and the other one were looking to spot my boat. They’re not looking for me on the ice, I thought. They’re shining their light all around the ice pans for something in the water. So I went to the edge of the pan of ice, and sure enough, she came, and the big light was shining on the water only twenty or so feet from where I was standing. The rays from the light shone on the toes of my two boots. If they had just raised the light another couple of feet, it would have shone right in my eyes.
Another time I saw a helicopter coming, and she went around the ice pan I was standing on. All at once, she turned around very fast, and I said, “Thank you, Lord. They saw me,” but she just stopped in the air for a minute or so. I went to the far side of the pan to give her room to land to pick me up, but she went on again.
The wind came up from the northeast and it started to rain. Then the rain turned to snow. Then it turned back to freezing rain, and all I could do was walk around the ice pan and pray and keep looking for lights of boats or helicopters . . . something. I had to stay in the lower part of the ice because the big waves were rolling in and hitting it, and the wind would take the spray from the water and bury me right over. I thought I would never make it through till morning.
An old hymn, “Till the Storm Passes By,” came to mind, and I began to sing. “Till the storm passes over, Till the thunder sounds no more; Till the clouds roll forever from the sky, Hold me fast, let me stand, In the hollow of Thy hand; Keep me safe till the storm passes by.”
I was very thirsty, so I dug a hole in the ice with the heel of my boot and found water. The water looked so good. I drank a lot of it because I was a diabetic. I knelt down and took a big mouthful and swallowed it, but it was all salt water. Then I thought of the clump of ice that I had sat on earlier. I licked the water from that. It was good, but after a while it got salty from the waves splashing up against the ice pan.
My back was hurting. I had undergone six back operations and three of them were spinal fusions. I was also very tired. I’d had two heart attacks, the last one five months before this trip to the ice. I didn’t have much feeling in my right leg because of one of the back operations, but I just kept on the go. If I had just sat in a rocking chair at home every day, I might never walk again. Because of that thought, I kept on the go, and that was the one reason for me being out in the boat that day.
I began to think about being in such a hurry that morning. If I had only taken my time, I would have put my pocket knife and my lighter in my pocket. I had taken my knife out of my pocket Saturday night and put it on my nightstand. I always did that, and Monday mornings I would put it back in my pocket again. But this Monday morning I was in such a hurry I forgot all about my knife and lighter. Now here I was, on this ice pan with nothing in my pockets but two rifle bullets.
I saw a helicopter coming toward me and I tried to set off one of the bullets by striking them together. After hitting them together a few times, I realized that if one of them went off I might blow my hands off. I started to strike them together evenly, to make a spark for the helicopters to see, but I soon realized there was no way to get spark from brass, which the bullets were made of. There was nothing more to do but walk around and sing and pray that the Lord would allow someone to find me soon. A few times I felt like giving up, but I reminded myself that I had my wife, my family, churches, and people everywhere praying for me. So I kept going.
Just as daylight came I saw the full gas can, just barely bobbing in the water. It was about fifty or so feet away. I said, “Lord, if you let that gas can come to me, I would have something to sit on.” I just kept watching it come closer and closer. Then I reached out my hand and grabbed hold of it. I took the cap off and poured the gas out and said, “Thank You, Lord.”
I sat down and rested for a while. That was the first time I had been able to sit down in about fifteen or sixteen hours. It felt really good, because I was really tired. Then the sun began to rise. I said, “This is going to be a good day. Someone will find me for sure.”
The ice pans closed together and, holding my gas can, I jumped onto a much bigger pan, with two or three big clumps on it. Now I had something to shield me from the wind, and a nice warm five-gallon gas can to sit on. But I was afraid to get too comfortable. I was afraid I would go to sleep and not wake up. I had to keep on the go. I dug another hole in the middle of the ice with the heel of my boot, just like I had on the other pan, only this one had good fresh water, and it was very cold.
After resting awhile, I got to thinking about the seals I saw on the ice. I thought that if I could find them, I would have something to put my legs up on, and I’d be able to warm my hands on their nice warm bodies. So, I got up on the highest pinnacle of the ice pan, and sure enough, there was a little harp on another piece of ice nearby. I thought that if I could get over there, I could walk right up to him. I wasn’t going to kill him or hurt him in any way. I was going to take him back to my pan and use him to keep me warm. I was going to tear off the tail of my shirt and put it in his mouth, get it hooked around his sharp little teeth, and tie it around his head and jaws. That way he wouldn’t be able to bite me. I was going to sit on my gas can and put my two legs across his back to warm my legs and feet. I’d put my hands around his sides. However, I was afraid to jump from my ice pan. I was afraid I would get in the water and not be able to get out, so I had to scrap that idea.
The sun was high in the sky. It was a bit cold, but nice and sunny. I saw something coming almost straight toward me. At first I thought it was an old seagull, but then I said, “No, that’s an airplane.”
Sure enough, she passed right by me. I saw three or four windows in the side of her when she went by. She was green and very fast, only two or three hundred feet over the ice, and very noisy. “Well,” I said, “she saw me for sure,” because I was running across the ice pan, waving my red gas can. I felt very good about that. “I’ll see a helicopter very soon,” I said. I knew that the plane couldn’t do anything except report my position to the boats or helicopter. The plane went on. I watched till she went out of sight. I was sure that I was found this time, but that was not the case.
Again I saw something far away from me. At first I thought it was an old seagull and I just kept watching it. Then I said, “No, that’s the same airplane, coming again.” I watched as she went almost out of sight. Then I saw it turn. I didn’t know if it was coming toward me or going away from me, but it didn’t take long to know, because she was getting bigger. I saw two bright lights. “Well,” I said, “she’s coming right straight for me. If she keeps coming she’ll fly right over my head.”
Then, all at once, she tipped on her side and big black smoke came from her. I didn’t know what it meant, but she came right over my head. The noise almost stunned me as I looked right up at her bottom. I kind of smiled to myself and said, “Well, for sure they got me this time.” I thought that the smoke I saw a minute ago was a signal that they saw me. So, I just said, “Thank You, Lord, for that plane and her crew,” as I sat on my gas can and waited.
Darkness was falling when I saw two longliners. As I watched them go by, it got darker and darker. Then I saw the lights in their spars. They were too far away to see me. That was very discouraging.
I just sat on my gas can, very discouraged, cold, wet, and hungry. Soon, I stopped feeling bad for myself and got up and started to walk around the ice pan and sing and pray. The hymn I think I sang most was an old hymn we sang in our church. “Oh there’s power in prayer, power to spare, all that you’d ever need is waiting right there. With
just a few words, a child’s faith, then it’s goodbye despair, oh there’s power, so much power, there’s power in prayer.”
Then there was another hymn that we sang in our church. “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts. This mountain shall be removed.”
Then I prayed again. I said, “Lord, You know I don’t have much faith, but you can increase my faith and this mountain will have to move and someone will find me and take me home to my wife and family and back to my church again.”
I would sit on my gas can and beat my hands together and strike my feet together and sing some more. I would sing the same hymns like “Till the Storm Passes By” over and over again
I would get off my gas can and go to the water hole I had dug with the heel of my boot. Each time I went to the water hole to get a drink of water, it was frozen over with about half an inch of ice. I didn’t know how cold it really was. I had to hit it very hard with my fist to break the ice. Sometimes I would have to use the heel of my boot. Then I would go back and sit on my gas can again.
I was beginning to feel desparate. I was worried about all that cold water and small pieces of ice going down my throat. I said, “This is not good for me, especially when I’m trying to stay warm. All this ice water is not helping me now.” But, of course, I had to drink.
I don’t know if all that shivering I was doing was from the cold or if it was from my blood sugar being so low. Anyway, I sat on my can and I kept my coat collar up and around my face and my hood up over my head, and I would blow twenty or so big blows under my right arm, then the same thing under my left arm, and then the same amount down my belly. I kept most all of the front part of my shirt underneath my armpits dry from blowing my breath. I didn’t let heat escape at all. I only stuck my face out once in a while to look around for lights, hoping the searchers were somewhere to be seen, but no luck. Then I would go back to blowing my breath whenever I could find the strength. It felt good when the warmth would hit my cold belly and arms.
