A hand at sea

A Hand at Sea.
Rick Adam Youngblood

This is a story of a shipwreck I was a part of.



It was winter on the Oregon Coast and I had just recently arrived in the town of Brookings. I meet some young people about my age-21- and one of them had his own fishing boat. His name was Don Standly.

Don was the proud owner of the ‘Torget’, a wooden hulled, Norwegian built boat of about 35 feet. Don had just finished the Salmon season and was gearing up for crabbing; all he was lacking was a crewmember to run the back deck.

Two others wanted the job—both my age; one happened to be a good-looking woman with little experience, the other a man with a lot more experience than I had—so Don decided that it would only be fair to have a contest. He would take each of us out for part of a day and based on our performance he would pick one. And so it was; and I won the job.

It was a nice sunny morning when we first headed out on to set the line of pots. We had heard that a storm was headed this way in the next couple of days, but Don was not worried about it, so I was not either. Everything was loaded and ready and we where just about to cast-off and head out to sea when we where boarded by the Coast Guard. The only thing they found wrong was we did not have any life jackets so before we could leave the harbor we had to get some. We went and got life jackets and headed out.

All that day, and through the night I pumped crab pots. We where doing good, getting a steady 5 to 10 keepers per pot so even though the weather was turning bad, we kept going. All the second day and into that night too I worked that back deck, filling the hold with crabs. The storm had picked up to a level that it was pretty dangerous to try to keep working and we had a good load already so we shut her down, turned around and headed back to port.

We had worked our way down the coast to off the shore of Crescent City California—right on the border of Oregon and California—so we had a good ways to go north to get back to Brookings. I was dead tired, but I knew Don had been awake right along with me this whole time so I he must be tired too. I told him I was going to get some sleep, but if he got tired, he should wake me to take the helm so he could get in a little rest too. With that, I went down below, climbed up into the rack and went right to sleep.

Some time later, I woke up hearing Don yelling something. For a second I just laid there, then he was screaming again, and I realized he was saying “Get up you stupid M___er F___er where going down!” I sat up fast, bonked my head on the ceiling, swung my legs over the side of the bunk, jumped to the floor, and landed chest deep in freezing cold water!



Gasping for air, I made my way up the ladder into the pilothouse. I quickly looked around to survey the situation. Don was just standing there with this shocked and confused look. All the lights around the whole boat: the deck lights, the cabin lights and all the lights on the electronics, including the radio, where out. Looking out the window I could see we where a long way out from any land.

I asked Don if he had radioed for help. No he said, and started trying to explain but I wasn’t listening, I stepped to the doorway, looked out onto the back deck, then down at my feet. Both where a few inches under water already: the boat was going down, and fast!

(Much later on, I learned what had happened after I went to sleep. Don got tired too. But, instead of waking me up to cover for him, he decided he would just take a short nap. He set the autopilot, laid back and fell asleep—what he didn’t do was set an alarm or set the autopilot to equate for the tide coming in and the rocks down south. The boat drifted into the rocks and ran aground, holing the boat and killing the engine. Don woke up, looked around, and didn’t see anything ‘Big’ that we could have hit, so he figured we had hit a buoy or something. He fired the engine back up, put it into reverse, ripped her off the rocks and put us back out into deep water. He said he reached for the radio, started to call for help and realized that, IT WAS TURNED OFF. He turned it on, keyed it again and realized it was ON THE WRONG CHANNEL! He turned it to the emergency channel, keyed to Mayday, and THE BATTERIES SWAMPED; the radio went dead! That’s when he started yelling at me…)

The only thing to do now was get ready to swim. I looked back at Don; he was lost, looking for me to tell him what to do. I tossed him a life jacket, grabbed the other for myself and we started tearing off the wrappers—as I said, the jackets where brand new— and we headed out to the back deck. With the deck a foot or more under water now, we climbed onto the roof of the pilothouse and continued putting on the jackets.

It was early January, sometime in the middle of the night, pouring down rain mixed with hail and snow all at once, and the wind was blowing hard. The lights of shore where way-way over there, too far away for us to even think we could swim that far. Between us and shore where a lot of different sized rocks, some small and just barely sticking out of the water, some larger and more than 20 to 30 at the highest point above the water line. Even the closest of these larger rocks was a long way away; but there wasn’t another boat or anything else in sight, so those far-off rocks where all we had to hope for.

Don and I are standing on the roof, still trying to get the damn jackets on right, the boat quickly sinking beneath us, only seconds left. Both of us kept looking at those rocks, way out there in the storm. We looked at each other, looked deep— as people tend to do when they know this might be the end— and Don said, “You know where we got to go don’t you…” I said, “Yea, over there to those rocks” (Years later it finally dawned on me the difference between his question and my answer. What he was really saying was “You know its hopeless don’t you, were not going to make it” and I was saying, “Yea, It’s a long way, but we can make it”)





With that said, I jumped into the ocean, and Don soon jumped in behind me. We started swimming away from the sinking boat, and toward the rocks. (Now, it had not been that long since I had first jumped out of that bed into the freezing water but it was long enough to give me a head start on Don toward Hypothermia.) Besides that life jacket, all I was wearing was a pair of Levis’, no shirt, shoes or even socks. Don was fully dressed including a warn coat. I knew I had to get out of that water soon or I would die, so I took off swimming.

I don’t know how long I swam before I fell asleep, but I did. I woke up when something, someone, yanked my head up out of the water by my hair! I mean literally yanked my hair, raising my head out of the water, and hard enough that my head hurt! Right off, I realized what had just happened; I had fallen asleep, my face down in the water, and Don had come along and saved my butt! Phew! That was close! So immediately, I said “Thanks Don!”, and looked to my right…and then looked to my left…and then turned around…No Don, and no one else there either. I looked back towards where the boat had gone down—the only sign of it now was top of the mast—and still way back there, not far from the wreck, was Don. He hadn’t swam hardly at all, was just floating there.

I started yelling to him, and thank god, he answered back. I kept hollering to him until he called back and started swimming toward me. The top of my head was still hurting. I had not forgotten what had just happened. I stopped for a moment, looked up, and said “Thank you”. I got a bearing on the closest large rock and took off.

I knew I just had to make good on this second chance, so I swam as fast as I could toward that rock. When I got there, I just happened to time it so I caught a seventh wave that laid me gently on the face of the rock just perfectly for me to a grip and hold on. The wave backed out and I was left high above the next set of waves. This gave me enough time to find more handholds and make my way higher.

As soon as I got to where I figured I was safe from any waves getting me I started calling out for Don again. He had kept swimming this time and wasn’t too far behind me. I pointed out to him how I had gotten up, but when he tried, the waves just pounded him against it; he could not get a handhold. After a few tries; and what looked like a bad beating on the rocks, he stopped trying and floated back out. He said he was going to try around the other side. He floated bask out and soon, I could not see him, and not long after that, he stopped talking to me.









About the only thing I could do now was to try to make my way up higher. I was so cold from being in that water that I could not stand up, so I started scooting on my butt up the rock. As I started making my way up I began to think about how vulnerable I was. It was night, the wind was driving rain mixed with snow, I had been in the water a long time, I couldn’t make my legs work enough to stand, all I was wearing was a pair of pants; no socks or shirt just pants, and the rocks where sharp so I had to be careful not to get cut up. I was shivering hard, but I knew that was a good thing, and actually tried to make myself shiver more violently knowing that it would help me to fight the cold, and it also meant that I was still on the living side of Hypothermia. However, Don, I was not so hopeful for. I was thinking about all this as I made my way to the top of that rock.
Just getting to the top seemed like a major accomplishment, but not much help. I could now see around in all directions, and could I see that there where no boats or any thing or anyone that could be of any help. I started looking and calling for Don, but no sight nor sound of him.

All I could do now was sit there. I was frantic, a million thoughts running through my head. Should I try to go find Don, or stay up here where I have a chance of being seen “If” a boat happens to come near? Rather than just sit here and freeze to death, should I try to swim to shore? It wasn’t long until I realized that I wasn’t shivering very much any more. I knew it meant that it would not be long now. I stopped thinking of what else I could do; it was over.

I was calm now. I can’t say that “my life passed before my eyes” but I did think about it. I thought about my family. I replayed the last few hours, the last few minutes, and said to my loved ones “I’m sorry. I did the best I could” Sitting out there waiting to die, I was at peace with the world and myself. I just felt sad to see it end this way, so soon.

I was resolved that this was the end, but I didn’t give in. I was literally fighting to keep awake when I noticed a humming sound. I was facing south, in the direction that Don had drifted off in, and turned around to my left toward shore, and saw a hug ship headed south on a path not far off from me. Ok, now the weather was howling and the ship was a ways off, so I didn’t have much hope of being heard but I started yelling, as best I could anyway.


My hopes where lifted even higher when I noticed a person walking along the starboard rail making his way toward the bow. I kept yelling as best I could, but with the wind blowing, and the ships engines loud droning, and my voice weak, there wasn’t much chance of me being heard. Sure enough, he didn’t show any sign of hearing me at all, and kept walking forward until he disappeared into the pilothouse. My heart wrenched as I realized that that had just been my only last hope, and had I came so close to being saved! As the ship speed past, I settled back down again. So close…






Then, the ships engine slowed, and reversed! It slowed and then began to turn! A huge light on the bow light up and started searching the rocks, just south of me. I couldn’t get up but I started waving my arms and yelling as best as I could! The light kept looking around and I was beginning to think that they wouldn’t find me, but then the light came my way, and stopped on me!!! The light stayed on me...! (I don’t think I can explain the feeling! I know I was crying!)

I waited. And now I thinking of Don again… The Ship called out that the Coast Guard was on the way. Eventually I saw a small boat headed toward me. I expected the Coast Guard to come in a bigger rig, but who ever it was, they must be coming to get me, so I started working my way on my butt down towards the water line.

It was a very small tender, with a coxswain at the rudder and (I later learned) a Lieutenant. I looked at the water line where I was, and saw rock just below the water line, but saw a spot where the tender could come in and get me safely. So I flagged the boat to some in, but I pointed to the exact spot that they need to come in at. The Lieutenant was directing the coxswain and not watching me! He was directing him right into the rocks, so I waved them back, and the coxswain backed the engine! The Lieutenant turned and yell at the coxswain. They tried again, and the same thing happened! The Lieutenant directed him into the rocks, and I waved him off! The Lieutenant turned again and this time really cussed out the coxswain. Told him Not to listen to me. They tried again. This time the coxswain totally ignored the Lieutenant and brought the boat with up to me! As they came close, I leapt of the boat just as the Lieutenant turned to Yelled at the coxswain for not doing what he said. They almost lost me as I tried to tried to get into the boat but the coxswain yelled back to “Grab Him!” and the Lieutenant turned pulled me aboard…

I, was now safe, but what of Don. I told them we needed to look for him. At this point, I kind of lost myself. I don’t remember a lot. I do know they had a lot of other men show up and they went looking for Don. They later told me that they found Don, 8 feet above the water line, on a ledge that it took them half an hour to get to with boots… They had No idea how he got there. At first, they thought he was dead. Eventually they got a pulse! I waited out there in that little boat as this all happened.

They put him in the tender with me, and we went to the Hospital.

I later asked Don “What happed out there? How did you get up on that ledge?” He didn’t say, “I don’t know” he just didn’t say anything… I kept asking, and Don refused to answer.

Don went home to Washington to collect insurance, where his parents lived and I started calling. (He owed me money. About $500) His parents evaded me talking to him for a while, and then they asked, “What happened out there Rick?” I told the story, but they said that something more must have happened, because Don is in a mental hospital…

I called for years, and Don remained in the Hospital. (I have done a web search lately, and I think he has come back to us now. However, I have not tried to call yet) I think I know what happened.

Remember how I said I fell asleep, and someone yanked my head out of the water? This is not the first time that I have been saved in this manner. The other time It was my Father that was yanked up in bed, and as he later said, “I knew instantly where you where, and that if I didn’t get there right now you where going to die.” He saved my life. But that is another story…

I believe that an Angel saved Don, and me, and picked him up and set him on that ledge. That is why he never spoke of it. That is what sent him for a loop! I know how we where really saved, but not why…



This is a true story. It was in the newspaper in Brooking Oregon, January 1980.

Rick Adam Youngblood, 2006