Cape Hatteras & The Gulf Stream.

Part 1 of 2

PAGE 1 OF 12

CAPE HATTERAS & THE GULF STREAM

vs.
THE EPICLESIS CREW
By
G. David Guerrero,
June 10, 2013
It was 10:00 AM on Saturday, June 1, 2013, and it was time to record and plot our position, as is done
every hour. We were approaching the Diamond Shoals of Cape Hatteras, and we could see in the distance a
buoy and the large, distinctive structure that once was a light house to warn ships of the dangers in the area.
By 10:25 Paul checked his phone and saw that there was a signal, something we had not had since we left
the shipping channels leading to the Chesapeake Bay entrance and Norfolk VA. The signal was good and
Paul sent a text message to the four families of the crew: two hours from Cape Hatteras. Becky, my wife
responded with Great.
The 4-man crew of Epiclesis, a Bayfield 32 cutter rig with tan bark sails, consisted of Paul Kotlowski,
Captain and owner of the boat, Alfred Young, an experienced sailor and an active member of the US Coast
Guard Auxiliary, and Joshua Huber, a 19 year old student, with no sailing experience, but a positive attitude
and willing to do anything required. Josh is ready for college, and after the voyage he is making the
necessary applications. I was the navigator.
It all began when Paul bought Epiclesis from someone
in Toms River, NJ, about 50 miles south of New York
City. I had known Paul in the 90s when he lived in
Milwaukee and we met frequently at the South Shore
Yacht Club and shared sailing stories. Paul had sold
his previous boat several years before, and moved to
Newton, a small town in North Carolina to be the
director of a Catholic Church program for young
people.
One day in the summer of 2012 Tom called me to tell
me about his new boat and his plan to take it from
Toms River to Beaufort, South Carolina. He asked
me to help with the voyage, which sounded exciting,
but when I told Becky she expressed concern about
the hurricane season. After much discussion about the
timing and sailing plans, I suggested that we sail in
late August, 2012, and go from Toms River to the
head of the Chesapeake Bay. Our voyage began when
Al, Paul and I sailed from Barnegat Bay and met the
Atlantic Ocean at the Barnegat Inlet. From there we
sailed south past Atlantic City, rounded Cape May, NJ,
and entered the Delaware Bay to reach the
Chesapeake and Delaware Canal and navigate towards
Havre de Grace, Md. After a 38 cruise we set anchor in front of the Concord Point Light House and went to
sleep. It was 2 AM. Later that day Epiclesis found a nice dock at the municipal port in Havre de Grace. I
flew back to Milwaukee and Paul and Al returned to their respective homes in North Carolina.
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A month later Paul, Al and another man took the boat down the Chesapeake Bay past Baltimore and
Washington DC, to a little town called Reedville, Va., near the mouth of the Potomac River. The boat was
hauled out and spent the winter on dry land.
On Tuesday, May 28, 2013 I flew to Charlotte, NC to meet Paul, Al and Josh. I arrived at 9 PM and we
drove all night to Reedville. It was a little over 4 AM when we arrived at the marina, and we were greeted
by the sight of a tall, elegant brick stack, located on what looked like an island. It was well illuminated and
its warm yellow silhouette reflected on the calm, dark waters of the Potomac River.
When the sun rose we saw hundreds of boats on land, some for sport fishing, many for fishing, and the rest
for sailing. Some looked like they had been on land for a long time, and, like most boats, had a beauty all
their own. Epiclesis was one of them, way in the back but easily accessible by the travelift, a special type
of crane to move boats in and out of the water. Charlie, the marina operator arrived at 7 and started the
lifting process, which included some touch up of the bottom paint on the hull, to cover the spots missed
because of the supports. The dingy could be seen, hanging from the davits at the stern of the boat. An hour
later the boat was in the water. Now we are ready to load the personal gear, food and other supplies. The
trip was about to begin!
Charlie asked Paul to move the boat to another dock so other boats could be launched. It was a simple
matter, we just had to start the engine and move to the designated slip. But the engine would not start. The
battery seemed to be low, and we thought we might need a new one, even though Paul had taken the usual
precaution of taking the batteries out for the winter, stored them at home and charged them fully. We spent
the morning trying everything including a jump from a special charger. Something was wrong, and we
needed a diesel mechanic to examine the 2 cylinder Yanmar diesel engine. Charlie decided to tow us to the
slip with his utility boat, but that had to wait until he was free from other duties. Since we still had a car,
we went to get some lunch at one of the few restaurants in the area; Reedville is a very small town, in a
rather remote inlet where the main occupation seems to be related to the fishing industry. Across the waters
one could see the outline of a large seafood processing plant and many large commercial vessels.
We were towed to a nice slip, next to other large sailboats. We began the process of troubleshooting. Al
and Josh followed the engine troubleshooting instructions, checked the fuel filter, pumped the primer pump

and soon discovered that the fuel filter was quite

dirty, clogged by some black impurities. Once the filter was immersed in clear fuel, one could see the
extent of the contamination. The filter was replaced with a new one, the air was bled out of the fuel lines,
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but the engine still would not start. It was mid afternoon on Wednesday, May 29, and it was clear that we
would not set sail that day.
Early the next morning a utility van arrived at the boatyard with a sign that reads Ampro Diesel- SalesParts Service. A mechanic had arrived, not for us but for another boat. Paul went to see him, a man with
over 30 years experience with diesel engines, who had seen everything on all kinds of boats. He could
help us, but had no time for us, so he said he would
come later that morning for about 10 minutes. He did.
He found the engine had air in the fuel lines because
we had not bled all the air out, and with air in the lines
diesels will not start. He ran the engine with the
battery for a long time to take the air out, checked for
contamination and he also found a little water mixed
with the fuel. Both were bad signs. He told us what
to do and he went away. Later he returned, checked
the engine and eventually got it to run. It was close to
9 in the morning and Paul asked the mechanic How
much do we owe you? The man smiled and said
Nothing. You were in distress. Paul gave him a $20
bill and a told him to have lunch on us. The engine
was running well, so we untied the boat and left the slip, headed for the entrance to the Chesapeake Bay, a
good 12 to 14 hour away under power and sail.
I had prepared a route to follow
using a combination of navigation
charts and AAA road maps,
something Paul dubbed The
Guerrero Method. The AAA maps
have a lot of land details and are
compact, but they have no
information about the water, while
the navigation charts are very detailed and cover short distances,
showing water depth, shore markings, buoys, lighthouses ship
routes and other aids to navigation.
Across the bay from Reedville we
could see the large fishing vessels that
supply one of the fish processing
plants in the area. The sight was
impressive. We followed the route as
planned and by 10:30 PM on
Thursday, May 30, and we could see the lights of the Hampton Roads Bay Bridge Tunnel. The strings of
lights were interrupted at two places, where the road goes underwater, through the
tunnels. Our task was to steer the boat so we could go between the red and the green
marker buoys over the tunnel. Our speed was about 10 Knots, or 10 nautical miles per
hour
This brought some memories: As a young engineer I had been involved in the making
of those very tunnels, when I was a Project Engineer at Wiley Manufacturing Co., a
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shipyard in Port Deposit MD, on the Susquehanna River at the head of the Chesapeake Bay. We had built
the tunnels on land, in 300 ft. sections, out of welded steel; tugboats took then down the Chesapeake Bay,
positioned them in place, and a construction crew added concrete in the right places and gradually sank
each section in its proper location.
Paul sent a text message to the four families with the news that we had just gone over the tunnel. Becky
responded, Bon Voyage. Now we were in the Atlantic Ocean, very close to Virginia Beach and an area
reserved for Navy training activity, so we had to stay away from the yellow buoys marking that area.
We adjusted course to stay out of trouble, but soon after the engine
stopped. It was very early on Friday morning, still very dark, and we
had to continue under sail alone. We would wait until daylight to check
the engine and see what had to be done. When the sun was just coming
out, we heard on the ship radio, on Channel 16, a stern voice: Sailboat,
you are on a shipping Channel. This is for ships drawing 40 feet! Get
out of the way! The voice sounded as someone with a thick Greek
accent. We looked and at our stern was this enormous ship with the
name clearly seen on its bow: King Richard. We said we were doing all we could to get out of the
shipping channel, but we did not confess that our draft was only 5 feet.

Several other ships were in the area, some with containers on top, and
one was a Navy ship. The Navy went on Channel 16 and announced
that all ships must clear the area so they could perform some
munitions exercises. Presumably they were talking about their
restricted area, not the shipping channel where we were. But we did
not want to take any chances and continued at full speed, all the 3.5
knots we could do with the wind we had. The ships continued
coming, and they passed us on both sides, Port and Starboard. They
were probably talking about us!
We continued the rest of Friday, sailing about 10 miles off the
Virginia coast, towards Cape Hatteras. Our course was 191 degrees
on the Magnetic compass due South is 180. By Saturday morning,
at about 9 AM we were 15 miles away from the Diamond Shoals
located outside Cape Hatteras, which extend some 15 miles into the Atlantic Ocean. The charts show that
many ships of all sizes have perished there. Very prominent in the chart are an abandoned light house and
buoys marking the danger areas. We still could not see them, but the navigation plan I had prepared aimed
at a place east of the lighthouse and Buoy R12, located at 35- 11 Latitude N, 75 - 8 Longitude W.
We had two GPS units, one with a large screen, mounted on top of the steering wheel and a portable one,
the size of a cell phone. We could see the cape on the GPS but only the sea around the boat. The horizon is
only 7 miles away, so it would be several hours before the lighthouse and the buoy could be seen.
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Al and Josh did some work with the engine, and made it work again;
now the only concern was whether
we had enough fuel in the boat tanks.
Somehow the fuel gauge was not
working. If the fuel in the tank was
too low, we would have to transfer
some of the 10 extra gallons we had
on the yellow plastic jerry cans. I
suggested taking the dimension of
the tank to calculate its volume, and
then insert a stick in the tank to see how high the fuel was. We had no sticks around, so we took a
measuring tape, wrapped it with paper and inserted it in the tank which is located under the cabin solethe
boat floor -- and inside the keel . We got a mark, but how much fuel? Al measured the tank, which was of
an irregular shape a trapezoid on topand I made some calculations, first to get the cubic inches inside
the tank. That was converted to cubic feet 1728 cu. in. to a cu. ft.and now everybody who paid
attention in class knows that there are 7.5 US gallons in a cubic foot. As my shipmates watched and I wrote
equations on the log paper, I felt compelled to talk about the impractical nature of the imperial system of
units used only in the US and one African country, while the rest of the world uses the metric system.
Meters, centimeters, liters are all related by factors of 10, so it is very simple to make calculations, while
the imperial is prone to errors in simple arithmetic. After the speech we still did not know about the fuel in
the tank. What was the answer? It was a 10.15 gallon tank, and I calculated that we had about 7 gallons
left, good for more than 28 hours running continuously. We could use sail and engine power to help us
round the cape while the boat navigated in total safety.
By 10 AM that Saturday morning, the 1st
of June, we were about 2 hours from the
Cape and we were now again under sail
and engine power. Paul sent the text
message two hours from Cape Hatteras.
We were confident that in that time we
would start rounding the famous Cape.
The wind was mostly from the south, at
10-15 miles per hour.
We kept on sailing, pointing as we call
it when we go as close the wind as the
sails will allow. As usual, we had 2
people on duty for 2 hours, one on the
wheel, the other ready to do whatever was
needed. The other two rested or took cat
naps. When we are in the water for long periods of time we eat very little and drink only water. We were
going only at a speed of 3.5 knots, with the engine at full speed.
The sky was clear, sunny but not too hot, and eventually we began to see the structure of the abandoned
light house in the distance, and slowly it grew in size. It felt great to be making such progress! Once we
were less than 7 miles away, we could see a tiny dot in the horizon. It was Buoy R12. We felt reassured
and kept on going. Once we had the lighthouse and the Buoy R12 on our starboard beam, a couple miles
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away, the engine quit again. Why? That was the mystery we had to solve, but for now we had to keep
going under sail alone. The speed dropped to one or
two nautical miles per hour.
The segment of the navigation chart above shows
Cape Hatteras, the Diamond Shoals and, on the left,
a scale marking 10 nautical miles, which
represents one minute of Longitude. Superimposed
over the chart is a photograph of the view we had on
the abandoned lighthouse and Buoy R12.
Paul and Al were looking towards the large structure
of the old lighthouse in the horizon, while Josh was
steering the boat. The time print on one of the photos
reads 06 01 2013 14:47, or 2:47 PM. We got
closer and closer to the light house and as we were about to go past it, still under sail alone, we had to
change course and try to go from 197 to 235, which is a southwest direction. The wind was directly
against us, so with no engine we could not go at 235. The wind dictated that we could go 270 or 180.
270 was out of the question, because the waters are shallow there and the charts clearly tell navigators to
stay out of that area. So we sailed below 180 and
went in a south east direction, only to find out that
the Gulf Stream current was taking us north. After a
while, we would go away for an hour or two only to
discover that the lighthouse was again south of us.
We adjusted course many times, sailed again and
again for many hours and by nearly 8 PM we were
treated to a beautiful sunset with our friendly
structure as a reminder that between the Trade Winds
and the Gulf Stream the sea was a tough contender.
We tried everything we could but again and again we
would return to the vicinity of the lighthouse and its
buoy. By 3 AM Sunday morning we were tired, wet
and frustrated. The seas had built up to 5 to 7 ft. and
the boat was reacting as boats tend to do. One of the crew members was sea sick and unable to do much. It
was clear that we would not be going around the Cape without the engine, and there was not much we
could do in the dark to get diesel power again. It was very dark, trimming the sails was difficult, and with
so much motion it was no way anyone could work on the engine.
It was very rough going but I was never scared, just frustrated. I knew the boat is soundexcept for the
engine--, our crew was very good and I knew where we were at all times. The frustration came from
knowing that in spite of a detailed navigation plan and accurate execution, what my shipmates expected
from me, it was clear that we could not go where we needed to go because of the strong Gulf Stream
current and the direction of the Trade Winds.
Al suggested we call the Coast Guard. I did not think we were in danger, just frustrated that we could not
make progress after some 15 hours of trying to round the cape. If we allowed the Gulf Stream and the
Trade Winds to control our direction, we would be pushed North and then NE, all the way to England. Paul
went on the radio, on Channel 16, the official stand-by channel, and called the Coast Guard. After
switching to another channel, as requested by the person at the other end, Paul explained the situation, and
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covered the required details for about 15-20 minutes. The Officer in
charge said they would send one of their vessels from the Hatteras
station to help us. They dispatched one of their special ships, USCG
47251, a 47 ft boat powered by twin 860 HP diesel engines. Paul was
in contact with its commander from then on. The Commander referred
to Paul in the proper form as Captain.
The Commander wanted to know what we needed in terms of fuel,
supplies, medicine, anything. Paul said all we needed was a tow to a
port where we could get a mechanic to look at the engine. By 7 AM
that morning the 47 ft vessel arrived, and began to circle in the vicinity.
They told us what to do and what to expect. They would come close
but not too closeand toss a yellow line with a monkeys fist at our
end. They would then attach a 1 diameter long rope with eyes at both
ends, to be attached to the cleats on the bow of our boat. We did as
they said and later the Coast Guard people attached another line to the 1 inch line to start the tow. They
controlled the latter line with a winch, and moved 47251 about 300 ft from Epiclesis. The tow was about to
begin.
We were
going at 8
knots. The
motion was
severe, rolling
when the boat
encountered
the waves
sideways,
pounding
heavily when
faced head
on. Water
came in streams over the bow and on the sides. In a few
minutes we were soaking wet. We could hear the loud noise of the bow slamming into the sea. This went
on for about an hour, and the stern of the boat was moving down to the point that the dingy, which was
hanging from its davits, began to fill with water as it moved back and forth with every wave. The tow line
was long, and 47251 could be seen as a small vessel in the distance. Because of the seas, the wind and the
Gulf Stream current, Epiclesis would move sideways a good distance, and the Coast Guard boat could be
seen sometimes by the port bow, sometimes by the starboard bow.

The dingy was moving so much that Paul contacted the Commander and asked him to slow down a little.
He complied with the request, and things improved some, but not enough. One of the davits broke and was
dangling behind.
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Al and Paul went to the stern to try to secure the dingy
with a line, but it was not possible to avoid the violent
motion. In the process Al got a nasty bruise on his
hand, and Paul decided to ask the Commander to slow
down some more. The response was to cut the dingy
loose, that our lives were more important. The lines
holding the dingy were cut and we saw the little boat
rapidly disappear in the distance, going up and down
in the waves. It was already after 10AM that Sunday
morning. The tow continued; our destination was
either the Hatteras Inlet or the Ocracoke Inlet, both
with shallow waters, and as can be seen in the charts,
there are many obstacles on the way and a number of
sunken bots of all kinds. The 47251 Commander
began to show concern about the draft of our boat. Their 47 ft vessel was specially designed to go into
shallow waters, and it draws only 3 ft, while our boat needed 5 ft. We cannot take to our Station,
Captain; you will run aground said the Commander. We can take you close to the shore and you can drop
the anchor. We can take the four of you to shore and you can make arrangements to fix the engine, or to be
towed by a commercial tow-boat to another location.

That was not a good solution to our problem. There was no assurance that we could get a mechanic in such
a remote area, and Paul would not abandon his boat. Al said we needed to go to a safe harbor. The Coast
Guard should not abandon us at sea, even at anchor. All of this was communicated to 47251, and at some
point Paul mentioned that one of the crew had a medical condition, diabetes 1. At some point Paul was put
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in contact with the commercial tow company, and the person in charge said they could not tow us to
Beaufort NC because of liability reasons.
I do not know whether the safe harbor statement or the diabetes 1 condition made the Commander
reconsider the situation and told Paul that he would contact headquarters for instructions. 47251 and
Epiclesis continued on their trip at 8 knots, headed to the inlets. Paul said to the Commander that we would
prefer to go to Beaufort NC which is past Cape Lookout and some 60 miles away--, and there we would
get a mechanic for the engine. The Commander said he was looking at the options, and inquired about the
condition of the person with diabetes 1. Do you need any medicine? he asked. The response was that the
patient was OK, but seasick, that all we needed was fresh water.
Sometime later Paul was given the phone number for Mr. Swanson, the USCG person in charge at
Headquarters, someplace in North Carolina. Their coastline is divided into several districts and he
apparently coordinates the efforts of each one. We wanted to go to Beaufort NC, because we knew that it
was a larger city, a sea port and we could get a mechanic to work on the engine. Mr. Swanson understood,
agreed with Paul and also asked about the patient. Then he added that they would do whatever was
necessary to get us to the station at Fort Macon, which is near Beaufort NC this sounds confusing, but
there are two Beauforts, one in NC and one in SC, about 400 miles apart. Our final destination was South
Carolina, but at that moment that was in doubt. There was only one immediate problem, said Mr. Swanson:
The crew of 47251 was past their allotted time on duty and he would have to send another 47 ft boat from
the Hatteras Inlet station to continue the tow.
The day was clear and warm and now we were going at about 5 knots, a more natural speed for Epiclesis
and the motion was gentler. It was sunny; we were still soaking wet, but grateful that the Coast Guard was
taking us to Ft. Macon. True to his word, the second boat arrived hours later. It was almost 4 PM on
Sunday, June the 2nd.
Changing tows was a spectacular demonstration of the Coast Guard abilities and discipline.
Communications are direct, simple and clear. When an order is given, such as secure line to bow the
recipient ties the line, and when completed states loud and clear line secured to bow. To most of us this
sounds redundant, but once we see under what circumstances this takes place, it becomes clear that that the
next step cannot be taken just because one assumes the task was done. The other people must know that
it was done.

The crew of men and women on the next 47 footer, called 47308, got ready to do the maneuvers. Their
Commander told Paul that they would place a Medic on our boat, with supplies, to check on our diabetic
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man, and change the tow lines. They came close, but not too close, because if two boats in motion come
within a critical distance, a vacuum is created and the two hulls collide with each other. 47251 remained on
one side, at a safe distance, out of the way but ready to assist if necessary; there was constant
communication among the three boats and with Mr. Swanson at headquarters.
There were no other boats in the area, and the four of us in Epiclesis were out of the way but able to
witness the entire operation, observed how they handled their boats, themselves and how they
communicated. They came near us a few times, both boats heaving in the waves, and all of a sudden the
Medic jumped with his bag the 3 to 4 feet separating the boats. He came safely on board and proceeded to
remove one tow line and replace it with another. We helped as much as required and sometime later Paul
thanked 47251 for all their efforts. When the new tow was about to start, the proper signal was given and
they went on their way to their station, near the Hatteras Inlet, the same one from which the 2nd 47 footer
came.
The Medic gave the All OK signal to 47308, and the
tow continued, at full speed. We were now headed
towards Ft Macon, NC, but to get there we would
have to go far from shore to avoid the dangers of Cape
Lookout. Paul maintained contact with the new
Commander and all went well. The Medic checked
the patient and found no reason for concern, so he told
his people we needed water; soon after they sent a
smaller boat and tossed some 20 bottles of water
which we were glad to receive.

Later on the Commander informed us of another ship change. It so

happens that Ft Macon is in a different USCG district and it
requires local knowledge to navigate those treacherous waters
around Cape Lookout. They had decided it would be better to send
a third 47 footer, this time from Fort Macon itself, to finish the tow.
We continued with the tow for several hours, during which time we
had a chance to know a little about our Medic, Ryan C. Kohl, a
friendly man, also interested in what we had to say.
Later that Sunday evening USCG 47211 arrived and the tow line
exchange procedures were repeated. Our Medic jumped again to
his own vessel and tossed the bags with heavy gear back on board
to his shipmates. All went flawlessly as the sky was getting darker
and the seas continued to heave the boats up and down in an
endless dance.

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It was almost 4 AM the next Monday morning when we entered the Morehead City channel and
approached Fort Macon, following the navigation buoys. 47211 came alongside of Epiclesis, tied large
fenders on the side and a one of their crew came on board to help with tying us down on one of their docks.

The chart here presents the paths taken by each of the tows an the names of the three USCG boats involved
in the 22 hour passage from Cape Hatteras to Fort Macon.

The water was totally calm and there was a mild breeze. We were welcomed at Fort Macon; the Station
Commander told us we there were hot showers available for us, hot coffee and at 7 AM we could have a
real breakfast at their cafeteria, for $2.50 each. They knew that we were wet and that everything in the
boat was also soaking wet, so we could use their washing machine and their dryer. They knew we had
been at sea for six days, under tow for some 22 hours, and without much sleep or food for over 50 hours.

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We had not eaten anything in such a long time, and the idea of a
hot cup of coffee, a hot shower and dry clothes sounded great.
We could wait for breakfast, only 90 minutes away. We finally
realized we were exhausted and relieved! We needed help,
but finally we rounded the Cape Hatteras. After a shower and
dry clothes we offered thanks and toasted with a cup of hot
coffee inside the locker room.

On the dock we could see the stern of USCG 47211,

with its tow lines drying in the sun. Later that
morning , near 11AM, we were towed, with a smaller
boat, to the Morehead City Municipal docks, near restaurants, a boatyard, mechanics and stores, including a
well stocked ACE Marine supply house with everything the fishing boats of the area might need. This was
indeed a safe harbor, and we thanked those involved at Ft. Macon.

End of Part 1 of 2
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