Amy Fleming's anticipated glamorous catamaran holiday in the South of France turned into a terrifying ordeal as ferocious winds, broken equipment, and a family member trapped in the cabin defined the trip.
From Dream to Disaster
The journey began with high hopes: a catamaran full of loved ones floating into azure waters, taking pictures, and anticipating sunsets. Fleming had reunited with her sister and family from Australia for the first time in three years after COVID-19. Her brother-in-law, an experienced sailor, offered to take her, her 77-year-old mother, and three teenagers on a week-long sailing trip for her sister's 50th birthday. Despite memories of her father capsizing their boat on the River Dart when she was young, Fleming accepted the generous invitation.
It was October, and Fleming had hoped for warm, gentle conditions. Instead, the wind blew ferociously and stubbornly in the wrong direction. The catamaran charged up mountainous waves and crashed into the void beyond. While the captain calmly steered, Fleming sat below, feeling as if she were in a disaster movie, realizing she hadn't even located the lifejackets.
Hairy Days at Sea
Once in safe harbor, Fleming studied the wind speeds for the coming week and felt anxious dread about all of them dying. She wanted to beg the captain, who along with his children was far more adventurous than her, her sister, and her mother, to hug the coast and use the engine. Many hairy days ensued. Fleming pointed out the forecast, highlighting potential gusts, but the captain replied that it wasn't that bad. The gusts came, at one point creating an urgent need to get the mainsail down, but the sheet (rope) was stuck. Fleming thought, "This is it." The captain and Fleming's nephew eventually found a resolution. Another violent gust broke the sheet for one of the foresails.
Calamity at Anchor
Calamity struck even while at anchor. The galley had steep steps down to the bunks, and one evening Fleming's mother fell backwards down them. With hearts in their mouths, they rushed to help. Luckily, nothing was broken—she was just shocked, battered, and bruised. On the windiest day, they anchored at a beach and went for a long walk. Watching their floating home bob peacefully from the shore was lovely until they realized it was dragging its anchor and heading straight for a Saint-Tropez regatta race. That night, Fleming lay in her bunk, listening to the wind lashing the fibreglass hull, hoping they weren't quietly drifting into the path of an oil tanker.
Trapped in the Cabin
On the return voyage, the wind was more favorable, but the sea still tossed the boat like a toy. The galley's sliding door to the cockpit had a temperamental catch, slamming open and shut whenever the boat lurched. Eventually, the door jammed closed. To get in and out, they had to hoist themselves through hatches above the bunks, but Fleming's mother—tiny, old, and still sore—couldn't do this. She stayed in the cabin for at least 24 hours, uncomplaining. When they wanted to explore the island of Porquerolles, they couldn't leave her trapped. So they cleared the draining board, lifted her onto it, and carefully posted her through the window. This became the defining moment of the week at sea.
A Bonding Adventure
It was far from the bikini-chilling holiday Fleming had hoped for, but she was grateful for the bonding adventure with her loved ones and the complete distraction from land worries and chores. She also thanked the captain for being extremely patient with his naysaying guest. According to Fleming, the experience was a memorable, if terrifying, family adventure.
