COMMUNITY OCUS

Lunenburg County Progress buLLetin

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WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 5, 2012

Saved by a sub
Former fisherman recounts brush with death at sea
andy Lovesin has accumulated literally a boatload of stories from his younger years when he went to sea. But there is one adventure, or perhaps it should be called a near misadventure, that is so unusual it tops all of the others. The tale began in the early 1970s when, at the tender age of 21, Randy Wagner, as he was then known, and his two brothers left the comforts of their hometown of Port Mouton to take up fishing out in British Columbia. We came from a fishing family so we went seeking our fortune out to the West Coast, Mr. Lovesin recalls. Each of us brothers went as deckhands on various fishing vessels and moved our families to Prince Rupert. That lasted for several years until the brothers decided that things would be more prosperous if they owned their own boat and they returned to their home province in search of one. We found the Caress II in close to Halifax in the village of Sambro, he says. She was 65 feet long and a retired swordfishing vessel. The brothers purchased the boat, which needed extensive repairs, and brought her to Lunenburg where she was sandblasted and painted, and her engines and electronics replaced. We were the first to attempt this venture by purchasing a vessel and taking her through the Panama Canal to fish for halibut in the Gulf of Alaska, Mr. Lovesin says. Many followed afterward, but we were the first. That trip was an experience in itself, having taken place in the midst Randy Lovesin of a fuel shortage in the Rescued at sea United States, circumstances which led the brothers to fill the fish hold with furnace oil tanks in Liverpool before they departed Nova Scotia. The brothers successfully fished the Caress II until the end of the decade when the American government, upset over a world court decision to give Canada control of the tip of Georges Bank, retaliated by banning Canadian fishermen from Alaskan waters. So our federal government offered a buyback for our boats and licences. We brothers each purchased salmon trollers and began a new adventure and all eventually moved to Vancouver Island, he explains. It was during the month of May in Mr. Lovesins third season of salmon fishing with his 42-foot freezer troller Sand Dollar that the unthinkable happened. My deckhand, Dana Gudbrand, was on his first fishing adventure and was sleeping when the alarm sounded aboard, Mr. Lovesin recalls. I did not know what the trouble was but I stopped the engine and peeked into the engine room only to see thick smoke. Mr. Lovesin closed the door and raced to awaken Mr. Gudbrand, who then jumped into the boats lifeboat while his skipper went back to try and determine the severity of the situation. All I could see was a yellowish glow through the thick smoke. I attempted to enter the engine room but could not breathe the thick, toxic smoke, he says. I realized I was now in trouble as smoke was cutting off all air. Running out of time, Mr. Lovesin threw a discharging fire extinguisher into the engine room and tried to exit

I joined Dana in the skiff and rowed a safe distance from Sand Dollar and watched with teary eyes as my beautiful boat burned to the water line.

from below by going through a skylight. I didnt realize it was closed, but I needed air and time had run out so I smashed through it, severely cutting my hand in the process, he says. It was so good to breathe the fresh air again. He then broke the windows of the wheelhouse in an attempt to reach the radio and send out a distress signal but the fire had shorted out the electrical system. I joined Dana in the skiff and rowed a safe distance from Sand Dollar and watched with teary eyes as my beautiful boat burned to the water line, he says. It took almost two hours before there was nothing left of her. During this time there were huge explosions from the propane tanks and the freon from the freezer pipes. The rigging was all aluminum and it also burned brightly. The last image of his vessel that he remembers was the glow of the quarter-inch steel fuel tanks which were so hot you could almost see through them. Then there was nothing, no sound and complete darkness. While the two fishermen were for the moment safe, their situation was far from ideal, being stranded somewhere between Vancouver Island and the mainland, at night in a small boat and in cold and damp springtime weather conditions. [Dana] was my responsibility and so to keep him warm and prevent hypothermia, I made him row toward land, Mr. Lovesin says. I had no way of knowing if we were going against the tide or not. It didnt matter as long as he was warm. The two rode out the night in the small skiff, making jokes and small talk to try and keep their spirits up, but at the same time also knowing that no one had an inkling of what had happened to them. Then, as the sun rose, a miracle happened.

Over 30 years ago, Randy Lovesin, now of Bridgewater, was rescued by an American nuclear submarine after his fishing boat Sand Dollar burned and sank off the British Columbia coast. Top photo: The USS Pogy, pictured here in 1982, rescued Randy Lovesin and his deckhand Dana Gudbrand. The vessel later went on to play an important role in the motion picture The Hunt for Red October.
and gave us blankets and hot coffee. The captain then called for a hovercraft based in Parksville, British Columbia, which transported the two fishermen to hospital where they were checked over and released. We went our separate ways never to return to the sea, he says. Following the loss of the Sand Dollar, Mr. Lovesin changed his legal name for personal reasons and, no longer happy on the West Coast, returned to Nova Scotia where he settled in Bridgewater and took a job as a meat cutter at a local store. He later seized the opportunity to go into business for himself, opening Healthpro, his own brokerage firm which specializes in health insurance. He continues to run that business today. But he never forgot about the sinking of his beloved boat and the experience of being rescued at sea, quite unexpectedly, by an American nuclear submarine. Those memories were rekindled in October when Mr. Lovesin received a call from his daughter Tiffany Campbell, who lives in Comox, British Columbia, who told him he was mentioned in a story in the Times Colonist newspaper. One of the crew of the USS Pogy was attempting to find the two men they rescued many years before. Apparently, we were the only such rescue they ever made, he laughs. The crew member had hoped to invite the two fishermen to a reunion being held in San Francisco in September 2014 in honour of those who served on the sub, which was decommissioned in 1999. Sandra McCulloch of the Times Colonist in Victoria first contacted Dana after receiving a request from Lawrence Sibiski, one of the crew members of the Pogy, Mr. Lovesin explains. Dana shared his side of the story and it was printed hoping I would show up somewhere. A follow-up story was run which explained that the owner of the Sand Dollar had been found in Nova Scotia, and soon Mr. Lovesin was contacted by Mr. Sibiski. As was the case when they were originally rescued, it took more than a little luck for the crew of the USS Pogy to find Mr. Lovesin over three decades later, particularly in light of him changing his name. I mean, I wouldnt have seen [the story], he laughs. It was quite an adventure. It really was.
By ROBERT HIRTLE, rhirtle@southshorenow.ca

An electrical malfunction was believed to have been the cause of the fire that claimed the 42-foot salmon freezer troller back in the late 1970s.
I thought I saw a nuclear sub. We started to row towards [it] but they kept the same distance from us. Apparently, you just dont row up to a nuclear sub, he laughs. I then launched a couple of smoke flares with no success. Finally, Mr. Lovesin recalled that waving an oar is considered a sign of distress, so out of desperation and frustration he frantically grabbed one of the skiff s oars and began swaying it back and forth above his head. That turned the trick. The sub turned toward us. They came alongside and we climbed up their ladder, Mr. Lovesin recalls. The crew of the USS Pogy were all in their early 20s and the skipper in his early 30s. They attended to my hand injury