Friday 23rd July

It was a warm but windy as Dave and Dermott arrived. They rushed up to me panting "Sorry we are late but the motorway was mad, all those road works".

"Don’t worry, I knew that you would be here, high tide is not till after 3:00 this afternoon" I replied, "and hello Dermott, not seen you all year", I added. Dermott blushed and replied "Dave has been busy with his brother and he has not had time for me let alone you". I answered that I knew all about Ian and that Dave should attend to his family first.

The lads set to, loading all of their clothes and the last of the food. Soon I was ready to go and shaking with delight. "Oh this will be fun, where are we going, is it Cumbria ?" I asked. "No its Wales again" said Dermott, "but don’t worry your new tank will get us there in one go and we have 8 gallons spare". I was not looking forward to a long slog on the motor but Dave had promised me the weather would buck up and we would be OK.

Geoff, came along with the tractor and hitched me up, and soon I was crawling along to the jetty, chatting with all the girls who were staying behind. Dave was on the Jetty as Dermott stood in the cockpit. They managed the ropes masterfully and soon I was slipping into the cool waters of the Lune, ready for the first part of the trip, the entrance into the Sea Lock where I would rest till 03:00 in the morning when Dave would set off. My motor burst into life easily and we motored round the headland into the dock ready for the night.

Dave & Dermott went out for a chippy tea and brought it back to eat on board. They then prepared themselves for a modest night in the yacht club where they could discuss the trip and then return early for a good night’s kip before they set off.

About 10:00, Dave and Dermott returned and after a nightcap, they were soon nestled in my warm hulls and snoring as I kept them safe for the morning trip.

Dave had a forecast of 4/5 in the morning with a 2/3 in the afternoon. The wind would, hopefully be from the West, but it may be a southwest. It won’t be too bad. I woke them at 03:15 and they soon were alert and dressed. SEA OTTER had left for Piel on Friday evening's tide intending to sail to Conwy from there. Five yachts left that morning:- myself - ESMERELDA, MOONSHINE, PEBBLES, RICE PUDDING, and RIVERDANCE, who left from Fleetwood. The wind was on the nose so there was no choice but to motor out to Fleetwood and then perhaps sail towards Conwy.

Dermott steered me gently along the Lune, and soon we were at Lune Number One. MOONSHINE and PEBBLES decided to hit Fleetwood although the timing was wrong, RICE PUDDING, after motoring down to Danger Patch, decided on Piel but RIVERDANCE and I were on for the Conwy run. So I lifted my hulls up and dashed into the waves. The wind was definitely a 4 and on my nose so I found it hard thumping into every wave. It was hard work.

By about 11 o’clock Dave summoned the courage to enter my galley and he cooked a bacon butty for himself and Dermott. I tried to keep myself still but it was hard work and Dave had a tough job keeping everything in the pan. Still he succeded.

I had to laugh, every time they went to the toilet, I bumped them around and they made a mess. Well I presume they made a mess. My bilges were quite awash with these two guys liberally spraying it all around as I threw them from wall to wall.

Lunchtime arrived and went and the lads were quite dismayed, the good weather had not arrived and the wind was still on the nose. I lumbered on, my motor whiring away madly keeping us at 4 knots or so. Soon it was tea time and I asked Dave, "Are you eating? " and he replied "Not yet, its too rough, when we land then I’ll cook". Dave and Dermott stayed in the cockpit and got thoroughly soaked while I felt uncomfortable. If I was human, I would think that I had cracked a rib, my Hulls were sore. Meanwhile I could see the oil and gas rigs and that horrible coloured safety vessel that kept watch over the rigs.
It was the Putsford Ajax, a purpose built rescue ship that also served to ward off unwelcome visitors to the oil & gas rigs. Dave & Dermott kept an eye on that chap but no more.

Then I started to droop my nose and I became more uncomfortable so I shouted out to Dave "Dave, Dave, help me, I’m not happy and in pain and I’m slowing down"

Dave was very concerned and he had to crawl forward onto my decks and examine my front lockers. "They are full of water !!" he shouted back to Dermott, " I think the drains are blocked, I’ll look"

He came back into the cockpit ashen-faced, "the front lockers are full of water because the nose is under the water" I explained my pain to Dave and Dermott looked into the Cabin. "Oh No !" he screamed , "We are sinking".

It became obvious that I had hit something as we crossed the Liverpool bay and it had caused damage to both my Hulls, but more seriously to my port hull. Dermott jumped, thigh deep into the cabin and using the green bucket, soon emptied my hulls. "I’m still sore and I think I’m leaking lads so you will have to call the lifeboat" I implored. Dave turned on his handheld GPS to confirm the reading on the Cockpit GPS, when he was sure that they agreed he called out :-

"Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, this is the yatch ESMERELDA" and he continued with my exact position and situation.

The coastguard directed Dave with instructions to heave to and that the Putsford Ajax was nearby. He then continued that they would send out the helicopter and also the Llandudno lifeboat.

The Putsford Ajax, that horrible ship that had watched us before, stood 300 yards off my port bow.

It was a magnificent sight and I apologized over my previous thoughts as the Ajax explained that he was thoroughly bored, his sole task was to simply go round in circles 24 hrs a day in case of an emergency. As our situation was real, he was happy to serve as our rescue ship.

I looked at this vessel with its huge out-riggers holding two rescue RIBS and I could see that it was fully equipped for any emergency. Dave & Dermott would be safe if anything happened to me. Just then I heard the whirr of Rotor Blades and I looked up, it was flight 122 , the Rescue Helicopter and then this angel dropped on a wire down to my Hulls. He was wonderful, he was strong, he was in control. He asked Dave what the problem was and Dave explained. I soon had three heads in the companion way looking at a little split in my front crossmember. "That’s your problem" he said chatting to the coastguard on his little rubber radio. "The lifeboat will take 30 minutes, and then we will whisk you home safe" he added.

I looked at this angel and asked him to sit in my cockpit and wait while the lifeboat arrived. By about 7:30, we could see the lifeboat lurching in the sea towards us. The helicopter, still circling, lifted this angel back into the sky and the lifeboat guys then took over.

The lifeboat coxswain directed two crew onto my hulls and then they gently pulled a huge white rope round my stern and back to the lifeboat for the tow home. I felt secure with these guys taking me in their arms and soon we were travelling slowly towards Llandudno. I chatted with the lifeboat guys and they kept me confident that I would get back in one piece.

By about 23:30 we had entered Llandudno bay, I had not taken on any significant amount of water so the coxswain asked Dave and Dermott on board for a chat. They discussed me, I’m sure of that, but I couldn’t hear because of the noise from the wind and the rain.

Dave and Dermott returned near 01:00 in the morning and they explained, that as I was not too well, they could get me round to Conwy Visitor’s pontoon and I could be fixed. But I could not get there before 04:00 or so as there was too little water . So off I went Dave and Dermott and both the lifeboat guys, round towards the Great Orme. I marvelled as the coxswain took us round in absolute darkness and I was not in any danger at all. Suddenly my port hull took a huge wave and I started to cringe in pain. "Ow Ow! " I cried as water gushed into my port hull, "help me, help me !" and Dermott bravely jumped into my port hull. But it was to no avail, the split was too great.

Here the lifeboat guys took on a huge diesel pump and sat it on my decks. It took a long time to prime but, just as it was getting in its stride, a huge wave swept over my hulls and drowned the poor pump. I heard it splutter as the cruel sea spat in its mouth and caused a hydraulic lock to stop the pump. I knew my time was near.

"Dave, Dave, I love you, please get on the lifeboat, leave me, I’ll survive." At that point the coxswain too, agreed with me. "now lads, one bag each and come on board NOW!" I was thrown around violently as I nursed the lads onto the lifeboat. My hulls were really sore and the water gushing in so fast. I wept as my Dave and his mate Dermott scampered onto the lifeboat.

"Bye my love " I said with my last breath, as my hulls disappeared beneath the waves.

Epilogue

Sadly Esmerelda lost her life that morning at 02:30 on Sunday the 1st of August. The lifeboat crew cut her adrift to beach on the west shore under the Great Orme in Llandudno.

This last act of bravery by the little ship saved her crew but she was dashed on the rocks and her hulls so severely damaged that she would then be considered a write-off.

Dave & Dermott watched the craft flounder on the radar and then the lifeboat returned to Llandudno. The whole affair with the lifeboat was for over 7 hours and the lifeboat, the helicopter and the Rescue Ship Ajax were marvellous.

That morning at about 04:00 am the two lads were dropped off by the wrecked vessel with the hope of rescuing the boat.

But by the light of day it was seen to be hopeless, the little ship had done her best but failed to survive the last step of the trip.

After a little sleep, the two guys were busy stripping off anything that could be saved and taking it home with them back to Manchester. The following day, in the afternoon, it was obvious that it was too late, the locals had salvaged anything that Dave & Dermott had not taken. The boat was an empty wreck.

Dave has contacted his insurance, and two independent valuations of the damage have been obtained. A local crane merchant has moved the boat from the rocks but only after 6 days of pounding on the breakwater. The little ship is desolate, wrecked and forlorn, abandoned on the beach awaiting the final statement from the insurance group.

This tale covers 9 years of painful yet dedicated work, the restoration of a written-off wreck in the first case, to the wonderful little vessel known as Esmerelda, her marvellous tales and events over 8 years of sailing, of her friends in Glasson and of her contacts in thousands of miles sailing with Dave & Dermott since 1996. Only to die saving her crew in strong seas outside Llandudno.