Death in the South Irish Sea

Freak storm takes 18 lives in British yachting disaster

The warnings began crackling over the BBC just after midday, and by nightfall they were growing urgent: "Severe gale, Force 9, increasing strong Force 10, imminent." Most of the 306 yachts in Britain's 605-mile Fastnet race were already in the South Irish Sea, near the bleak rock for which the biennial blue-water classic is named. Running for shelter seemed unnecessary, perhaps impossible. Said Tom McLoughlin, a Californian aboard the French yacht Accanito: "We deluded ourselves into thinking that the weather was going to improve."

Then it hit, tearing into the fleet with Force 10 winds (between 55 and 63 m.p.h.) and waves up to 40 ft. Streaked white with a war paint of foam, the seas tossed the sleek yachts, which ranged in length from 27 ft. to 79 ft., as if they were balsa wood. Boats were capsized, righted and then swamped again, their crews suspended terrified in safety harnesses. Less fortunate yachtsmen were thrown about the decks or washed overboard. Said British Skipper Arthur Moss of Camargue: "Our steering [wheel], complete with a man attached, went soaring into the sea."

The tempest caused yacht racing's worst catastrophe. Eighteen people, including three sailors not officially entered in the race, were killed and scores injured. Among the dead were three Americans who had been living in Britain: Frank H. Ferris, 61, Robert H. Robie, 63, and David Dicks, 31. Former British Prime Minister Edward Heath managed to sail into Plymouth unaided, although bruised and exhausted. Said he: "It was the worst experience I have ever had." Twenty-three yachts were sunk or abandoned and uncounted others crippled; preliminary estimates put the damage at $4.5 million or more.

The Royal Air Force and Royal Navy, massing their biggest rescue operation since World War II, prevented the death toll from being even worse. For 84 straight hours, eight helicopters, six naval vessels, and volunteer commercial ships ranged over 10,000 sq. mi., rescuing 136 sailors. When helicopters spotted survivors in the water, the choppers had to drop and rise like yo-yos, trying to get in synchronization with the giant waves. The boats' tall masts made it impossible to pluck yachtsmen from the decks. "The idea of jumping into those huge seas was appalling," said Frank Worley, a crewman on Camargue. In the end, we were all pushed in by the skipper."

At Culdrose and Plymouth, where survivors were treated or dispatched to hospitals, battered yachtsmen gave firsthand accounts of suffering and sorrow. Alan Bartlett, skipper of the British Trophy, recounted that his boat's life raft tore apart like tissue: "It was horrific to watch as men dropped into the sea, drifted away and drowned. They were my friends."

Fastnet, the centerpiece of ocean racing's most important event, the five-race Admiral's Cup, runs from the Isle of Wight to Fastnet Rock off the Irish coast and back to Plymouth. Yachtsmen who enter it and other offshore races prefer a stiff breeze and are ready for a full gale, at least in midocean. But last week's storm caught them in relatively shallow water and whipped the seas to unusual heights. In panic, some sailors apparently took to their life rafts too soon, abandoning boats that were later found intact.

In recent years, sailboat designers have dared nature with lighter, faster and more fragile craft, a trend that no doubt contributed to last week's tragedy. Critics quickly demanded tighter regulations on yacht construction and safety equipment, but sweeping measures are not likely to prevail in a sport so steeped in speed and risk. Said Ted Turner, the Atlantan whose Tenacious won the race: "To be able to face it all and come through it is exhilarating. Sailing in rough weather is what the sport is all about." -

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