by Henry Rodriguez
Three minutes. That’s all it took. From the time the gust first hit until Chiquita was on her way to the bottom less than three minutes had passed. Five of us—six, counting the dog—were left treading water well over a mile from shore with no other boats in sight. The water was rough, and cold.
After all, it was only June. The lake had been covered with a layer of ice several feet thick just two months earlier. Now we were stranded in the cold water with only one flotation cushion to hold on to.
How could it have happened? Especially on Lake Minnetonka? It’s not as though we were sailing on the open ocean. Or even on the Great Lakes. After all, Chiquita had survived the rough waters of Lake Superior and Lake Michigan. She had once taken a knockdown so severe on Lake Superior that the mast was bent. She had taken us from Door County, Wisconsin to Escanaba, Michigan in water so rough both kids spent the crossing throwing up in the cockpit. Yet it was on a comparatively small and safe inland lake that she went down.
Chiquita was the ideal boat for us. A fiberglass replica of an 1890s pilot cutter, this 23 foot Venture of Newport had been a fixture on upper Lake Minnetonka (on the outskirts of Minneapolis, MN) since she was built in 1974. Marie and I had updated, improved, renovated, and generally customized every part of her during our 13 years of ownership. She was perfectly suited to our needs: daysailing on Minnetonka several times a week and cruising on the Great Lakes for several weeks each summer. She’s a bit small for long distance cruising with our two preteen girls, but is ideal for evening or weekend sails. A larger boat would have been more comfortable, of course, but then it wouldn’t have been as easy to trailer. A newer boat would’ve been faster, perhaps, but wouldn’t have the charm and grace of this classic cutter. Chiquita turned heads wherever we went; even confirmed powerboaters recognized her as a classic yacht.
It had been windy all day that Friday, June 8. The weather service had issued a small craft advisory, not a good day to be sailing. I had wanted to go right after work, but it was just too rough. That was alright since I had some other commitments that afternoon anyway. By early evening, though, the wind had died down considerably. I got my chance to go sailing after all.
My family had other things to do that evening so I asked one of my sailing buddies, Stan Wise, to accompany me. He brought along his three kids: five-year old Stephanie, 10 year old PJ, and teenaged Kirk. My dog Coco also came along for the ride.
Because it had been so windy just an hour earlier, I put a reef in the mainsail before we got under way. Since she’s rigged as a cutter, Chiquita normally flies two headsails. I set the staysail but did not raise the jib.
There was barely enough wind to move the boat away from the buoy. Priest’s Bay is very sheltered, though, so I waited until we got out into the main Upper Lake before deciding to increase the sail area. The wind was a little stronger there, coming from the northwest at 12 to 15 knots. It was not what I would call heavy air by any means. I raised the jib but left the reef in the mainsail.
We had a pleasant sail, with the boat heeled about fifteen degrees. Kirk went forward to sit on the bowsprit for a more exciting ride. PJ sat on the cabin top and Stan stood near the mast checking things out. Little Stephanie stayed in the cockpit with Coco and me. The two younger children were wearing life jackets but Kirk and the adults were not.
The boat started to heel a little more so I reached down to ease the mainsheet. Before I could grab it, however, we were hit by a sudden gust more powerful than anything we’d ever experienced. I can only liken it to the downbursts sometimes responsible for airplane disasters. The boat was slammed down on her side so hard that the mast dipped several feet under water. It caught us by such surprise that everyone except Stephanie tumbled into the lake. The boat stopped moving forward as the sails scooped up lake water. The keel simply did not have enough weight to right the boat with the sails full of water. Even though we had been dumped into the lake, we just could not believe Chiquita would capsize. We were all in shock. The boat just kept on going over, trapping Stephanie in the upside down cockpit. There was still a gap of several inches between the cockpit coaming and the lake when Stan and I both realized that Stephanie was trapped. Somehow, and we still don’t know just how, Stan was able to reach into the cockpit and pull his daughter free.
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