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Fifteen years ago, a 45ft yacht narrowly avoided tragedy in the Pacific when an engine fire took hold. The skipper shares the story, following the loss of the yacht Sunny Deck to fire, as told in Boating New Zealand, August 2015.

We were on passage from the Galapagos to the Marquesas in my Nicholson 45 yacht Pursuit II. The yacht was under sail in 20 knots of wind. All four crew were awake so we had taken the opportunity to run the engine, out of gear, without disturbing anyone while we charged the batteries. We were relaxing around the saloon table after lunch when someone commented that there was a slight smell of burning.

What happened next, happened fast. Smoke was coming from the engine compartment. We lifted the inspection hatch and saw we had a serious fire. We stopped the engine as dark, toxic smoke spread throughout the boat.

My mates readied the liferaft, grab bag, EPIRB, flare kit and some extra supplies in the cockpit in case we had to abandon ship, while I tackled the fire with our two, dry powder fire extinguishers.

It was apparent that the major issue was burning PVC insulation on the heavy duty electrical cables running between the engine and the battery banks. Having emptied both 1kg extinguishers, I could see no more flames, but there was still a lot of smoke.

Wishing I had a third extinguisher to deal with any flare ups, I wrapped a tea towel around my hand and, with strength fuelled by adrenalin, I pulled the smouldering remains of the cables off the batteries to prevent the fire being reignited by electrical shorting. Despite the tea towels, I suffered burns to my hands. Finally I closed the fuel shut-off valve mounted near the fuel tank.

By this time the yacht’s interior was seriously choked with

Even though a boat is on water, it can burn quickly. This boat caught fire off Nelson and was quickly blazing out of control. Photo: Nelson Marlborough Rescue Helicopter/ The Nelson Mail/fairfax NZ smoke, and I beat a hasty retreat to join my shipmates in the cockpit. We closed all the hatches to reduce the airflow to the smouldering fire and spent the next three hours anxiously watching wisps of smoke emerging from the ventilators. Eventually, once the smoke had cleared, we thought it was safe to open the hatches and inspect the damage.

Clearly, the engine was not going to run again anytime soon; the starter and earth cables had been destroyed. There was considerable mess from the fire and fire extinguisher residue. Plastic components in and around the engine space had been melted or damaged, but there was no damage to the boat’s structure.

The nearest land was our planned destination, the island of Fatu Hiva in the Marquesas, three days fast-sailing away. There was no reason to change our plans; we made our landfall without further incident and sailed towards Baie des Vierges on the leeward side of the island. There were mountains overlooking the anchorage and we tacked in cautiously under mainsail only, expecting bullets of wind. Knowing that re-anchoring without a

motor would be a hassle I was keen to find a good spot in which to drop the hook, even if it meant a lot of short tacks.

As we rode safely at anchor we could finally appreciate the beauty of our surroundings as the setting sun bathed the famous rock pinnacles around the bay in a red glow. These pinnacles inspired the bay’s original name, Bay of Penises, in Polynesian, but the missionaries had insisted it was changed.

Our mood was one of relief rather than delight, and our arrival celebrations were muted. We had had a lucky escape in a remote location about 1,200 nautical miles from the nearest search and rescue base in Tahiti.

It was easy to identify the cause of our fire. A bracket holding one of the engine’s two alternators had failed, allowing the alternator to fall out of position. By mischance it had come to rest