Shipwrecked
Douglas Robertson - aged eighteen, his mother and father, twelve year old twin siblings and a nautical hitchhiker were aboard a yacht in the Pacific in 1972 when it was attacked by killer whales. Within minutes the fifty foot yacht capsized and the family scrambled onto a life raft. Despite having just four days worth of supplies, they sailed on the raft - and then when that sank, a small dinghy - for thirty-eight days.
Keeping sharks at bay was a constant ordeal and dry land was hundreds of miles away, but the family managed to survive on turtle blood and enduring spirit. They never gave up hope and were eventually rescued by a Japanese boat. It took a long time to come to terms with what had happened: the experience was one that affected them all deeply.
Unbelievably, Douglas Robertson was shipwrecked again in 1975 whilst aboard the British Ambassador. The boat suffered a mechanical break-down during a storm and part of it sank. However they were rescued in three days by a tug: it was a small drama in comparison to the one three years earlier.
Trish Simpson Davis took her family across the atlantic in a boat and listening to the interview with Douglas made her question whether she had been a responsible parent:
Douglas Robertson’s interview brought back memories! Around 1974, we read Survive the Savage Sea, about the sinking of Lucette by killer whales. We decided that, for ocean sailing, it had to be steel.
So, we spent three and a half years, five thousand hours of spare time, in a local farmyard. Our 10 metre yacht, Ralph Rover, was the first amateur, round bilge, steel construction in Britain. Ralph wasn’t the first to launch: Serenity of Leigh beat us to it, by a year. But by the time we’d finished the welding and started the interior joinery, we had a baby bobbing alongside the intensive DIY.
Three years after launching, Ray, my husband, managed to scrounge a year off work. We had two girls aged four and eighteen months. With minimal resources, we set out from Portsmouth in 1983, to sail across the Atlantic on the Caribbean ‘milk run’.
I had every confidence in the integrity of our tin can and my skipper, a brilliantly intuitive navigator. Just as well. It was the days before radar, GPS and affordable long-range communications. We relied on a sextant and trailing Walker log to fix our position. The log impellor was bitten off by something large on the way home. No matter. By that time, we could estimate wind strength, boat speed and heading to the minute, and hardly missed it.
Mothers ask: ‘Weren’t you frightened the children would fall in?’ But no. Ralph Rover became a giant play pen, with netting all around. We trained them to obey our commands, so we knew they’d stop, in an emergency. By the time we’d cruised down the Spanish coast and out to Madeira and the Canaries, we’d shaken down as a crew with one skipper and a family with two parents. Soon the toddler could climb anywhere, holding on with all four limbs and a prehensile harness, like a little monkey. She potty-trained herself, too. With all the Atlantic Ocean to hand, falling in wasn’t a viable option, but it made cleaning up very easy.
‘How did you keep them entertained?’ people ask, when they hear the Atlantic crossing to Bequia took 28 days. Longer passages were a chance to dig out scarce crayons, play-doh, books and dolls from our only toy locker. I ran morning ‘play-school’ in the cabin, when the sun behind us burned the decks. By the noon sextant sight, the sun passed into shade behind the sails, and we spent the afternoon on deck, paddling in the cockpit or partying on the foredeck. Without the resources of an electronic age the girls managed just fine, with both parents on hand full-time, plus their own imagination. The four year old started school a year after she would have gone today, and now she’s a doctor.
I have a more ambivalent answer to: ‘Were you frightened?’ Normally, no. When we crossed the Mona Passage by night and fetched up in Samana Bay, Ray’s textbook response tacked us away from a coral-spiked lee-shore just in time. The adrenalin rush was exciting.
Much worse, we arrived in Puerto Rico with a broken engine. Without engine or wind, we worried for the first time on the trip. Drug-runners were looking for short-handed yachts to overpower. The Port Captain’s advice was uncompromising: ‘Buy a gun. If pirates approach, shoot first. Dump the body. Say nothing afterwards.’ In our namby-pamby middle-class way, we’d rejected firearms before leaving the UK, which made for an anxious thousand miles through the incredible coral seascape of the Bahamas. We didn’t get the drive plate for the engine until Florida. It was too expensive in Nassau.
We put a lot of thought into controlling the risks, in those days when Trade Winds and Iceberg Limits were still reliable. We were ready for the Force 9 off the Newfoundland coast in early June. The reality was awe-inspiring. I had a: ‘What am I doing here?’ few moments as we tried out laying a-hull, water slamming into the coach roof. Within a couple of hours, we’d discovered that Ralph coped best, towing a long warp. A couple of hundred miles south, the Sail Training Ship Marques was unlucky, and sank.
Nearing the Azores, three dozen bright black and white killer whales stormed by at twice the boat’s speed. Confident in my boat, I gloried that I was the only person on the planet to see them. By the time the crew below climbed out of their sleeping bags, the whales were gone. I’ll have that memory, as I die.
I’m still not quite sure which bits made us irresponsible parents. The girls themselves remember little, if any, of the year. Neither sail. They’ve grown up into full adult members of the family and society. They are world travellers with an appreciation for the planet.
The trip achieved my lifetime ambition, at age 35. I would willingly have died in the attempt. Nothing approaches the complete joy I sometimes felt at sea. Building a boat, taking on an ocean and delivering the family safely back to normality twelve months later, changed me. After that, I knew I could do anything. Since then, I understand the insignificance of human beings.
Thought the shipwrecked story fantastic. Do you have details of the book(s) written by father & son??
Complain about this postthanks,
jonathan
Interesting story! what is your book called and where can I get it?
Complain about this postApologies for the flagrant advertising, but if anyone wants to find out more about Dougal Robertson's amazing story they can come to the National Maritime Museum Cornwall in Falmouth where their tiny dinghy is on display for the next year. I had the amazing pleasure of working with Dougal whilst researching the display and I still can't quite believe they all managed to survive their ordeal.
Complain about this postI was fascinated by Douglas Robertson's 'shipwrecked' contribution to this morning's program. I think he mentioned his father's book which would include further details of the incident; did I hear this correctly? Has Mr Robertson himself written of the shipwrick? I would very much like to read either or both (?) books. Could you send deyails, please.
Complain about this postAt the end of Saturday Live the programme the presenter mentioned that the people had written a book about being cast adrift on a life raft but did not give the title. It may have been given earlier but for those who listen to the programme half way through that is of no help. What is the title please?
Thankyou.
Complain about this postJ. Banks.
Yorkshire
dear sir,
As others have said, very interesting story on this morning's programme re. shipwrecked. Would love to read Dougal/Donald's book - please supply details of title and availability.
Thank you.
Complain about this postFascinating story of the Robertson family,please would you supply details of book titles and where to obtain them, thankyou
Complain about this postPlease could I have details of both books relating to Douglas Robertson's experience.
Many thanks
Complain about this postHAVE TO SAY, I AGREE WITH THE PREVIOUS COMMENTS- THE ITEM WAS TERRIBLY INTERESTING BUT THE FULL NAME OF THE INTERVIEWEE AND HIS AND HIS FATHER'S BOOKS WERE SO SOTTO VOCE AS TO BE INDECIPHERABLE.
NOT SOMETHING WE FIND ON THE ³ÉÈË¿ìÊÖ EARLY MORNING NEWS- WHEN A DAY WITHOUT A PLUG FOR AN UPCOMING PLAY,FILM, BOOK, OR PROGRAMME TO BE SHOWN IMMINENTLY ON ONE OF THE BBSEES,IS A CONSUMMATION ETC..ETC..
LET'S HAVE A COMPETITION FOR THE BEST GLARING GLISSANDO:- I OFFER :
"AND NOW FROM BAHGDAD TO BAG MUM- OUR REPORTER FROM ROSSENDALE TELLS US ABOUT HOW TOUGH IT IS FOR THE HOMELESS TO CROCHET"
Complain about this postHAVE TO SAY, I AGREE WITH THE PREVIOUS COMMENTS- THE ITEM WAS TERRIBLY INTERESTING BUT THE FULL NAME OF THE INTERVIEWEE AND HIS AND HIS FATHER'S BOOKS WERE SO SOTTO VOCE AS TO BE INDECIPHERABLE.
NOT SOMETHING WE FIND ON THE ³ÉÈË¿ìÊÖ EARLY MORNING NEWS- WHEN A DAY WITHOUT A PLUG FOR AN UPCOMING PLAY,FILM, BOOK, OR PROGRAMME TO BE SHOWN IMMINENTLY ON ONE OF THE BBSEES,IS A CONSUMMATION ETC..ETC..
LET'S HAVE A COMPETITION FOR THE BEST GLARING GLISSANDO:- I OFFER :
"AND NOW FROM BAHGDAD TO BAG MUM- OUR REPORTER FROM ROSSENDALE TELLS US ABOUT HOW TOUGH IT IS FOR THE HOMELESS TO CROCHET"
Complain about this postGREAT STORY
Complain about this postApologies.
The book is called The Last Voyage of the Lucette and is published by Seafarer Books.
Simon (sans flip flops)
Complain about this postWhat a fantastic story - are the film rights available??
Complain about this postThe original book is called survive the savage sea and is still available:
Complain about this postCan I buy this book on-line?
Complain about this postThanks
Loved to hear Douglas Robertson tell his own story, & although it is a familiar one, I would love to read his book.
Have tried unsuccessfully to find it on Amazon, can you help?
Thank you
Yvonne
Complain about this postI thought Douglas Robertson mentioned a book Thirty eight days on a raft - is it published so I might buy it?
Complain about this postWhat is the book called that Douglas Robertson wrote including his fathers work and his account of the shipwreck story?and can you get it on amazon.
Complain about this postI was fascinated to here Douglas Robertson on last saturday's show as I read his Father's account of the ordeal 'Survive the Savage Sea' about 10 years ago. It is an unforgettable read and in fact I also recall reading of their shipwreck in the papers of the time when I was still at school. It must have been a terrifying ordeal.
Complain about this postI too would love to know the name of the book mentioned. Any chance of the details
Complain about this postMany thanks