Overboard in the Gulf of Mexico!

Having the Gulf of Mexico practically in my backyard is wonderful -except during hurricane season.  Part of it was in my backyard during Hurricane Irma. (Since our house is only about 7 feet above sea level, we left for higher ground). The hurricane hit Sunday, and when we returned on Tuesday, we saw the debris line  about 5 feet from the patio, 7-10 feet away from the house proper, so we were very lucky. People farther down the street and closer to open water had to rip out drywall and discard furniture and appliances. Down and across the canal a home was so damaged by the surge that it had to be demolished.

 I recently had another close encounter of the wrong kind with the Gulf. With the exception of 20 land-locked years in the middle of my life, I have messed around with boats from the time I was 9 or 10, both at home and with Girl Scouts. I never have fallen off a boat, and never have capsized one accidentally. (It's fun  capsizing canoes on purpose, and it takes more work than you might expect).
But there's always a first time.

We'd had a good sail in gorgeous weather out to the sea buoy, about 2 nautical miles from Marco Island, and then turned north, sailing outside Keewaydin Island toward Naples. On the way back the wind got a little frisky for our taste, so we dropped the sail. Unfortunately it didn't come down all the way. Being very careful about hanging on, I went to the bow and unjammed the sail. Then I backed back into the cockpit, but thinking the danger was over, somehow I just stepped overboard instead of back into the boat.

Falling backwards and then plop! into the water was an  unreal sensation. It felt longer than the  second it took. A gentle, but cold landing. Gulf water averages 66 degrees in early February, not cold for people up north, but no self-respecting  SW-Floridian of my generation gets into the water before it hits 80 degrees, usually in March. Apparently there is something called "Cold Response Shock," which causes one to gasp involuntarily when hitting cold water. I don't know if that is what happened to me, but I definitely came up choking.

I can't say what was going through my mind. I wasn't exactly frightened, but I was acutely aware that I was in the water, that my shoes and heavy-duty work pants were making it hard to stay afloat, and that I was suddenly, inexplicably tired, even though I am a fairly decent swimmer.

I was coughing pretty vigorously while trying not to breathe in more water. I do remember thinking, absurdly, how beautiful the water splashing against the transom was. I didn't think to kick off my shoes. Actually, I doubt that I was thinking at all.

 I had learned in safe boating courses from the Power Squadron that most people who fall overboard make it back to the boat, but that many still drown because they can't get back into the boat, and succumb to hypothermia or exhaustion. That mush have been  in the back of my mind.

But really, all that I remember  was the realization that I was not in a good place, had to get back into the boat, had to do it soon, and had to do it on the first go-round, because my energy was flagging so rapidly.  My husband had thrown me a seat cushion, and the flotation was comforting and helpful.

Our boat has a small step on the rudder and then another one on the transom, to help get back on. The   steps were a little high for me, but with my husband's help I managed first the one  and then the other, and then with his pulling and my pushing I got over the coaming, and sort of "walked" on my elbows along the seat to get the rest of the way in.

I was exhausted, and it took a long time for my heart to stop thumping, but there was still work to do before we could continue, so I did my part and then changed into a dry flannel shirt. Somewhere along the line I whacked my big toe, so had a technicolor foot for about a week - a small price to pay.

According to the Boat US Foundation, 76% of boating fatalities occur on clear days with calm seas. I wasn't a fatality, but otherwise the accident fit the mold perfectly. I'm still not quite sure what happened, just that I thought I was safe, and then the next thing I knew I was in the water. We  don't drink while boating,  I have more upper-body strength than a lot of women my age, and we're both in decent shape - all of which certainly helped my chances.

So now we are enforcing the rule that anybody who has to go forward or out on deck puts on a PFD.  I am looking for one that will not be bulky or too hot in summer, and that I can buckle and unbuckle with arthritic hands. So far the cheap red vests that we've always carried have turned out to be the most comfortable.

Another thing. I'm glad that George, the 700-1000 pound great white shark that was located in the 10,000 islands not so far south of us around the same time wasn't there, or wasn't hungry!