VENDÉE RESCUE
When Kevin Escoffier’s boat sank in the Southern Ocean within two minutes, he was rescued by fellow Vendée Globe competitor Jean le Cam. Pete Goss examines the expert seamanship involved
Pete Goss examines the seamanship involved in Kevin Escoffier’s rescue by Jean Le Cam
On 30 November, whilst sailing at 27 knots on starboard tack, disaster struck the IMOCA 60 PRB. A strong SW air stream behind a front had thrown up a large and confused sea state. Kevin Escoffier, lying in third place in the 2020 Vendée Globe Race, was 840 miles SW of Cape Town. ‘In four seconds the boat nosedived, the bow folded at 90˚. I put my head down in the companionway. A wave was coming, I had time to send one text before the wave fried the electronics. It was completely crazy’.
THE NIGHTMARE UNFOLDS
The infrastructure and procedures that lie behind the rescue, supported by modern communications, are a marvel in their complexity. Escoffier had a couple of minutes to send a short message to his support team: ‘I need assistance, I am sinking, this is not a joke’. He donned his survival suit, which he never stows away, and made his way into the cockpit. Smoke from burning electronics followed him up to a quickly settling deck that was sluggish and unable to rise above the waves. He had been unable to access his grab bag in the rush of rising water below. He struggled to get to the liferaft at the stern of the boat which was by now underwater.
Trying to fasten his EPIRB to the pushpit he was swept off the deck along with his automatically inflating liferaft, the boat never to be seen again. Thankfully he has a routine of always carrying a personal transponder in the pocket of his wet weather trousers which were now under his survival suit. If there was ever an argument for preparation then here is the cold graphic reality. A professionally-prepared, top-level ocean-going vessel, brimming with safety gear and watertight bulkheads, succumbs in minutes. It’s a fascinating episode with a successful outcome that offers much for us mere cruising mortals to reflect on.
At 1346 (UTC) the PRB shore team received his frantic text. This was immediately passed to Jaques Caraës, the Vendée Globe Race Director whose team swung into action as they coordinated the rescue in conjunction with MRCC Cape Town, MRCC Cross Griz Nez, PRB support team and Meteo France. Jean Le Cam, sailing appropriately named Yes We Cam! was closest and immediately dispatched with an ETA of only two hours. He quickly found Escoffier, made voice contact but was unable to pick him up in confused 5m seas and 30-32 knot winds. Boat handling was challenging, particularly as his folding propeller wouldn’t initially open. Close proximity seemed dangerous and Le Cam lost sight of Escoffier and couldn’t establish radio contact or pick up the AIS transponder which was inhibited by the large seas. The rescue area, engulfed by darkness, began to widen.
There would be no quick fix and so three other skippers were diverted as a search protocol was drawn up using Météo-france’s new drift prediction programme. The skippers approached with three reefs in the main and idling engines to search three distinct zones based on three, six and nine hours’ drift. Frustration engulfed race HQ as intermittent distress beacon signals appeared not to follow a pattern. On being directed to a beacon position that corresponded with the predicted drift pattern, Le Cam, out of the corner of his eye, caught a brief reflection of light across a wave. What followed seems a blur to both of them but Escoffier underlines that it was his training and physical strength that quickly heaved him out of turbulent danger and into the cockpit. At 0118 a dripping Le Cam and Escoffier suddenly appeared on a continuously running video Skype call between Race HQ and Le Cam’s navigation console.
It was done – the exuberant chat that followed said it all with an emotional Escoffier looking happy and healthy.
A REMARKABLE RESCUE
Escoffier subsequently explained that although he can’t remember if they agreed to delay the rescue, they were only able to share a few words on that first contact, there seemed to be a tacit understanding that it would be best to wait for light and calmer conditions. Escoffier felt that a night in the liferaft was the safer option; ‘I spent the night quite well. I mean I wasn’t comfortable, but in my head it was better, I was sure that the day after someone would be coming with less winds and less waves, and then I’d be able to get from the liferaft to the boat. I had a bit of trouble sleeping during the night, I had been eating a bit and drinking the water
I had on board. Close to the
‘I need assistance, I am sinking, this is not a joke’
morning I heard a sail flapping so I got out, put my head out of the raft and I saw it wasn’t dark because of the moon, even with no sun we were able to see very well and I saw Jean just above me, between 100–200 metres from me. I asked him ‘Now, we’re doing it now?’ And he said ‘Yes, yes let’s do it now’.’
Of course, as was the case with my rescue of Raphaël Dinelli in the 1996 Vendée Globe, it wasn’t over. Amongst Escoffier’s many emotions was such a strong sense of letting his sponsors and team down that it reduced him to tears. A burden that will have started to lift with Jean-jacques Laurent of PRB, brimming with pride and happiness as he reassured Escoffier over the Satcom; ‘It’s only a thing, it doesn’t matter Kevin. No worries, it’s all good. Zen Zen’.
Jean Le Cam, who offered a magnanimous response to Escoffier’s heartfelt apology for upsetting his race which had been going so well. ‘That doesn’t matter. Last time it was me who upset Vincent’s race.’ Ironically it was Le Cam who was rescued by PRB during the last race. For all that one mustn’t underestimate the aftermath of having someone randomly crash into your bubble of focused solitude, it’s wonderful to have the company. They clearly had fun for the five days that Escoffier remained on board.
THE WIDER IMPACT
At the same time it throws your hardearned single-handed rhythm. There is a lot to juggle, from disrupted routines to extra daily responsibilities, a mountain of press interest and organising the logistics of dropping off the casualty. Alone again, deeply tired, it’s a lot to reframe as you are forced to once again spool up your internal gyro for highoctane single-handed racing in the Southern Ocean. A new goal might be required, for compensation will never make good being dropped back to the following weather system. In Le Cam’s case the episode concluded very quickly and as we go to press Le Cam is in fourth place, leading the chasing pack. Le Cam certainly deserves another shot at winning the race.
Often forgotten is the suffering that families have to endure. Completely impotent, theirs is a deeply harrowing experience as they wait for news. In the case of Raphaël Dinelli, his partner Virginie had to wait for two days as experts slowly and very publicly narrowed his chances of survival to nil. Raphaël, seemingly returned from the dead, asked her to marry him and so our shared experience concluded with me as best man as we celebrated their love and future. Something that Jerry Roufe’s family were denied when he was lost without trace in the Pacific not long after Raphaël’s rescue. He was a lovely man.
This turmoil was captured by Escoffier on being delivered to Réunion island by the French Navy who had picked him up from Le Cam. ‘I’m still a bit melancholic today on dry land. It’s a complicated transition phase. I’m still disappointed to have had to abandon on the Vendée Globe, to have lost a boat. I have the impression it has been much more complicated for my family than for me, so I can’t wait to see them again. Don’t forget ... We get to live our passion and we impose it on those who love us. There are certain events that we would like to avoid!’ Theirs will be a Christmas to remember with lots to digest.
Once the dust has settled I have no doubt that the experience will stay with everyone involved. Rightly proud of their input, life-long friendships will have been forged. For all its disruption I still
Ultimately, the technology relied on good honest seamanship by a 61-year-old sea dog
feel that I had the best experience out of all of my fellow competitors. What can be better than to save a life and make a life-long friend. It wasn’t all bad, I still smile at memories of getting completely plastered with Raphaël on New Year’s Eve. A year later we fulfilled a pledge from that drunken night by competing in the two-handed Transat Jacques Vabre. Life goes on and is richer for these experiences.
PREPARE FOR THE WORST
No doubt more will be learned once we are able to properly talk to those involved but these are some of my immediate reflections:
■ Panic is a killer and Escoffier getting the essentials done, under huge duress, in such a short period of time underlines his cool headed professionalism. In my view, visualisation is the main tool in the box to rebuff panic. Walk every conceivable scenario through in your mind such that you can smell it, taste it even. This offers practical solutions: Escoffier’s survival suit was by the companionway, a personal beacon was in his pocket and he was able to take the first steps to survival without thinking. Those first, previously visualised steps, are the ones that smother panic and clear space in your mind to flick through your menu of scenarios, draw down and then prioritise appropriate actions.
■ Invest in good safety gear – Escoffier was wearing the same Guy Cotten survival suit that saved Raphaël Dinelli. Tracey and I have one each and regularly practise donning them. Have a decent grab bag which has a handy stowage below for benign conditions and a secure stowage in the cockpit when it’s inclement. Add a tether with a large clip to aid securing it to your lifejacket. Cold shaky fingers, without the luxury of time, are likely to struggle with a knot.
■ Know your personal safety gear. Before the British Steel Challenge I put all my safety gear on and played in the surf. It might look daft but I learned so much. Most training, and gear development, is carried out in a pool and I can tell you that surf will soon ‘out’ hidden problems. Crotch strap length; your knife being inaccessible when the life jacket is inflated and under load; the importance of doing up your cuffs, ankles and neck, for example. This resulted in all sorts of little modifications including the addition of bespoke pockets.
HAVE THE BEST SAFETY GEAR
■ Know your raft and the equipment within it. Training, training, training is essential. Escoffier was quite at home in his liferaft, he knew what was required of him and what resources he had to hand. We should all go on a sea survival course and use any opportunity to supplement it.
■ If there is one thing that would have made all the difference with Raphaël’s rescue it would have been a handheld GPS and waterproof VHF pre-packed into his raft. This would have enabled us to communicate and establish exactly where he was much earlier. It would also have turned him from a passive casualty into a proactive entity with hope. This ‘ownership’ has a huge effect on survival
times for it feeds the will to live and can make the difference between discovering a body or a rescue celebration. It’s empowering to nurture this and there is no reason not to get your raft repacked with the addition of equipment. Ask if you can watch, sit in it, chat to the experts, and add a picture of your family. It might make all the difference.
■ Having an old-timer like Jean Le Cam meant that years of experience was at the fingertips of the hand on the helm. He knew his boat intimately and was able to handle her in challenging conditions where a few metres either way could mean life or death. He himself had been rescued during the last Vendée Globe so had a unique insight.
■ Without an engine, which has rightly been made compulsory, I was worried about over-shooting Raphaël and so I trailed a line with all my fenders strung along it. I put a series of bowlines just after each fender so that he had something to pass his arm through; remember, through cold a casualty’s hands will be dramatically inhibited.
I ran a line between the stanchions that hung down to the waterline so that should we make contact he had something to hook his arm through.
I also placed a couple of life jacket strops either side of the boat so that I could quickly clip him to Aqua Quorum if the opportunity arose. It was something that proved to be well worth doing as we bounced about in chaotic conditions.
■ Le Cam’s folding propeller wouldn’t initially open. When on a long passage under sail it’s worth running up your engine every few days to ensure that all is well. This should include engaging gear both forward and astern to make sure debris hasn’t snagged on the prop.
■ Proximity doesn’t necessarily mean safety, for in rough weather the rescuer can very quickly turn into a threat. Be prepared with the moral courage to make tough decisions which carry lifelong implications – it must have been awful to sail away and leave Escoffier to the night. Unquestionably the right decision, shared by both of them, but difficult to live with and explain to his family if he had not been found. These moral dilemmas are worth thinking about so that you have a well to pull from when needed. Once Le Cam found Escoffier again he wasn’t going to muck about. From experience it must have been a harrowing night as he desperately searched for a life that had slipped through his fingers once already.
A COLLABORATIVE EFFORT
Thankfully all ended well. It was a quite remarkable rescue made possible by numbers, technology, sound seamanship and disciplined preparation. A big fleet gifted a large resource with four search boats diverted in a matter of hours. A broad support team was able to coordinate through communication technology – technology that at the end of the day relied upon good honest seamanship in the form of a 61-year-old sea dog undertaking his fifth Vendée Globe. None of which would have made any difference had Escoffier not been able to act with cool professionalism under fire. Bravo to all of them.