Mike's and Alex's story

Mutual Respect

Below are some extracts from Mike Golding's incredible rescue mission where he went back up-wind to save Alex Thomson.

Finally out of the blackest night imaginable, a flare shot into the air and in the glow cast down from the scudding low cloud I could see Hugo Boss's mast and was able to pickup his masthead strobe light and finally his deck level nav lights. A transfer was absolutely too dangerous during the night; if during the transfer I lost sight of him, even for a moment - he would be gone. I dropped sail and tried to match his drifting course and speed, Alex slept, I fretted and tinkered with my engine, tested the controls, gathered my rescue kit, coiling down throw lines into buckets and in the end playing Solitaire on the PC - I was nervous about the transfer. At some point, it was clear that Alex could well end up in the water and in 5°C temperatures there would be no time for a screw up.

Sunrise was at 0259GMT, I called and woke Alex. we both ate some food and generally got our acts together before he rigged in his survival suit and set himself up for me to come close. The plan was that he would inflate his raft on his leeward side, throw some supplies in and jump in. He would then send a line across to me with his rocket line thrower before letting himself adrift from Hugo Boss. A good basic plan that meant he would never be unattached.

After some unsuccessful attempts
This time I took off most of the sail and used the engine which was now stuck permanently in 'ahead', leaping below to adjust the throttle setting under the sink and in the very last moment killing the engine completely with the kill switch in the Nav station. But this time the approach was near perfect, the raft arrived on my bows, bounced down the hull, I virtually passed Alex the line which he made fast, I killed the engine and winched him back into the leeward side - we had him!

We hugged as I welcomed him aboard, I apologised for my shabby pickup - "I probably would have failed my Yachtmasters on that one" I said - but we had him - and oh what a fantastic feeling!

Slowly we set about getting Alex sorted, I cut away his glove and we cleaned and dressed his hand injury which is painful but not too serious. He climbed out of his survival suit, we tidied up, drank some coffee, then some more. Then we slowly set about getting moving. I unrolled some headsail, and hoisted some mainsail, aiming the boat back towards Fremantle. Over the next two hours we cruised, talked, drank lots of tea and coffee - in 24 hours we had both been through the mill and back, Alex was and is clearly deeply upset by the loss of his boat - but he was now safe.

I was not about to immediately charge back into the race full throttle - we had enough adrenalin in the past 24 hours to last us a good time yet and the race seemed distant and somewhat less important than what we had just done. Alex was safe.

As for the cause of the failure, we know some facts. No element of the rigging or its attachments to the mast or boat failed. Nothing in our team's preparation of the boat was responsible. We know this because we have all the evidence here - nothing was broken except the tube. The conditions at the time of failure were incomparably small when compared to the loads which were being exerted just 24 hours before when we were clocking off huge mileages and sailing on the brink of control. The failure was therefore most likely there in the carbon tube before I collected Alex. It could have happened anywhere, during the first brutal gale in Biscay, in a squall in the Doldrums or when we turned upwind to come get Alex - we won't ever know for sure.

Read the full version of Mike Golding rescue report in Alex Thomsons Race Diary

Mutual Respect

When sailing in high waters, the nearest help may be a competitor. Therefore it is a tradition that skippers help each other in emergencies. VELUX will give a prize to each skipper completing the race – it is not the two hours between number one and two but the extraordinary conquest to have completed that matters. This creates respect among skippers.

Graham Dalton notes: "Onshore, we're the best of friends, but out here (at sea) they're the enemy. All they'll get from me is a taste of cold steel."