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$45 upfront payment equivalent to $15 per month. New customers on first three-month plan only. Taxes and fees extra. Speeds lower above 40 gigabytes. See details. It's July 1972, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. 300 miles from land, a nine-foot dinghy is swept up on a huge swell like a scrap of driftwood. For 18-year-old Douglas Robertson and his family, this tiny vessel is all that stands between them and certain death.
Clinging to the mast, Douglas stares up at the brooding black rain clouds ahead. He runs his parched tongue over his cracked lips. After weeks of relentless sun, Robertsons are almost out of drinking water. The sudden promise of rain is like an answer to their prayers. This could be their only opportunity to get fresh water, and they're not going to squander it. Keeping one eye on the approaching weather, Douglas helps his father take down the sail. They spread it above their heads as a canopy to collect rain. But it doesn't just rain.
It pours. Soon the Robertsons have replenished their water supply, but as torrential sheets still cascade from the sky, a small boat is rapidly filling up. This isn't just a heavy shower. It's a huge oceanic storm, and the dinghy is drifting directly into it.
You could see the wind whipping the waves at the base of the clouds, you know. We knew it was going to be a very bad storm. It did rain very, very heavily. There were heavy thunderstorms, lightning landing in the water around us. Honest to God, it was a very, very bad situation. It was a hell on earth sort of situation, you know. We were scared that we were, it might overcome us, you know.
The Robertsons are utterly at the mercy of the elements. Each white-capped breaker threatens to capsize them. The boat is filling up faster than they can bail her out. It's only a matter of time before the dinghy and everyone on board starts to sink. Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes? If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice? Welcome to Real Survival Stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations.
people suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we meet Douglas Robertson. In 1971, he and his family embark on an epic round-the-world sailing trip. But when disaster leaves them shipwrecked in the middle of the Pacific, the Robertsons' dreams of circumnavigation turn into a nightmare of self-preservation. Cast adrift on the open ocean, they must stick together and battle adversity as a family.
But will it be enough to overcome savage storms, debilitating thirst and the looming threat of ocean predators? No, I thought I was certainly going to die. I thought I was going to be eaten alive. I thought this is how my end will come. These killer whales are now going to get us. This is how I'm going to die. I'm John Hopkins from Noisa. This is Real Survival Stories.
It's January 27, 1971, in the sunny seaside town of Falmouth, England. Sixteen-year-old Douglas Robertson hitches his duffel bag onto his broad shoulders and strolls along the quayside. He passes the fishermen hauling in their morning catch, inhaling the briny sea air. He feels jittery with anticipation. After months of planning, Douglas and his family are finally about to embark on a once-in-a-lifetime adventure
an epic sailing trip around the globe. Nothing, nothing could replace that sense of adventure that I knew was awaited just around the corner if we actually did sail around the world. And we were, you know, we were pretty sure we were going to do that then. Docked at the waterfront, straining slightly at her moorings, is the Lucette, the Robertson's home for the foreseeable future. She's a beauty.
Despite her age, the fifty-year-old, forty-three-foot, two-masted schooner looks ready for adventure. Her hull gleaming brilliant white, a spacious deck of varnished teak glinting in the sun, and enough cabin space for six people to sleep comfortably. The other family members are already on board, unloading supplies.
There's Douglas' mother, Lynn, his younger brothers, nine-year-old twins Neil and Sandy, his 18-year-old sister Anne, and finally his father, the captain of the ship, Dougal Robertson. Douglas lifts his gaze beyond the Lucette to the steel-gray horizon. His cheerful expression fades. Their yacht suddenly seems very small and fragile against the enormity of the Atlantic Ocean.
it dawns on him quite how unprepared they are for the challenge ahead. "Dougall has never even so much as taken us round the bay on a sailing lesson. He never taught us how to sail in the quiet waters of the Falmouth Bay. He never taught us how to steer. He never taught us anything. I just can't believe that now, looking back." Aside from Dougall, a former captain in the British Merchant Navy, none of the Robertsons have any sailing experience whatsoever.
Douglas and his siblings grew up on the family's dairy farm in rural Staffordshire. Then, a few years ago, Dougal surprised them all by proposing an outlandish scheme to sail around the world. The former sailor declared that his kids' lives were too sheltered on the farm, and it was high time they received a proper education at sea. But Douglas suspects that his father's true motivations were a little more complicated. In truth, the farm was not an economic success.
And in a way, and this is me, my opinion now, he saw it as a way out from the economic crisis that was coming up, so to speak. He could sell the farm, buy a yacht, sail around the world, take his family around the world with him on the pretext of giving them a wider education, university of life and all that sort of thing.
Whatever his father's motives, for Douglas and his three siblings, sailing around the world certainly beats going back to school or starting college.
Oh, yeah, we were all sort of caught up in the spirit of adventure and, you know, nobody objected to it. But, you know, kids don't. Kids just go along with it and they talk about it. I mean, to us, sailing around the world meant sailing around the world, whatever. We didn't know what that meant. We had absolutely no idea of what was involved, but we wanted to do it.
The family load up the vessel with food, water and navigational equipment. They also bring along boxes of emergency flares, life jackets and an inflatable raft, just in case disaster strikes. As the Lucette slips her moorings and eases out of harbour, Douglas eyes up the tiny nine-foot dinghy strapped to the back of the yacht. He hopes they will never need to rely on it. And then suddenly we're on our way out of harbour and we were headed for the great blue ocean
And trepidations were set in. We were a bit scared of what was happening. And Dougal was stamping his feet in the cockpit floor, shouting, Yee-haw! Like that. And the truth was out. The truth was out. This is what Dougal wanted to do, you know. We were going whether we liked it or not. The Robertsons' first destination is Portugal.
After that, they intend to sail around the Canary Islands before heading west across the Atlantic towards the Caribbean and beyond. But within days of setting off, the harsh reality of life at sea sets in. The sky darkens, the wind picks up, and the Robertsons soon find themselves in the middle of a powerful squall. As the Lucette's hull slams against the onrushing waves, the family is drenched by icy blasts of Atlantic spray.
Bellowing over the elements, Douglas' father instructs him to take the wheel. But with the Lucette swaying violently in the gale, it's all but impossible to keep the needle of the compass straight. And you can imagine the boat rolling heavily in heavy seas, the compass is spinning around in the binnacle, you know, that you can't actually see it most of the time.
And Dougal's saying to me, a complete newcomer, "Keep that number next to that line." And I'm going, "What number?" "That number." And the boat's yawing heavily in the seaway, and then the sails went aback, and Dougal's going, "Maintain your course!" And I was thinking, "Well, why didn't you teach me this before?" So it was a baptism of fire.
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And they've changed their minds entirely about Dougal's escapade. They want out. We got to Lisbon and we decided that we would, that it was a mistake after all, and that we would turn around and go back home and call it off. That was our plan as we sailed into Lisbon. Shortly after docking, however, the sun reappears through the clouds. As they dry out beneath azure blue skies, memories of the storm soon fade.
As do the family's misgivings. Before long, they're all filled with excitement for the adventures ahead and hoping that the worst of the weather is already behind them. After ten days in Lisbon, the Robertsons continue their voyage south. Their plan is to sail down to the Canary Islands, where they'll pick up the trade winds to the Americas. Over the next few weeks, the family finds their sea legs as they grow accustomed to the daily rigors of sailing.
Life on board a boat is always busy. It's always cleaning or painting or varnishing or tightening the rigging or oiling the rigging or etc. etc. There's a lot of things to do to keep the boat ship shape. It's not just chores that keep them occupied. An abundance of marine life is visible from the deck.
We did see lots of fish and whales and wildlife at sea when we were sailing between places because unlike a ship which makes a big noise and the animals keep away from it, a sailing boat doesn't make any noise and in fact it attracts from a curiosity point of view wildlife and you see a lot of things, swordfish, pilot whales, big baleen whales, things like that.
After a short stay in the Canaries, they head west into the Atlantic. As the weeks go by, they weather a few more storms. But generally, everything's going perfectly to plan. Bronzed by the sun, weathered by the salty air, the Robertsons are earning their stripes as sailors. We just went from strength to strength. I mean, even the twins could sail and, you know, we...
you're bound to pick it up when you're sailing like that. Every day was an adventure and an achievement. You went to bed at night having done something, you know what I mean? You felt that you'd done something. We felt so superior to our peers at school that were left back home at school, you know, that we were actually doing something that we knew was an adventure. I was always a hard worker, always doing stuff, always failing sails and everything.
rowing the boat and all that sort of stuff. And at some point on that trip, I made a decision that I too would go to sea when I got home. I would seek a life in the Merchant Navy. That's what I decided. So yeah, it really clicked with me, yeah. 33 days after leaving the Canary Islands, the Robertsons reached the sparkling waters of the Caribbean. The tranquility of the tropics makes a welcome change from the choppy Atlantic
In no rush to move on, the family will spend the next few months island hopping. Sometime in June 1971, the Lucette sails into Nassau in the Bahamas. They get chatting to an American man who owns a diving shop in town. He introduces 18-year-old Ann Robertson to his son, Jeff. They immediately hit it off. One week later, as the Robertsons are preparing to depart, Ann makes a surprise announcement.
She doesn't want to continue the voyage. She and Jeff have fallen in love and they're going to start a life together. And that devastated us in a way because it kind of indicated to us that this trip that we were on was not the most important thing in the world, you know. There were other values that we still hankered after as people. And, you know, my sister wanted to find love. She was a bit older than me, so I hadn't thought about that yet.
but she wanted to start a life with Jeff, maybe in Nassau. After some heated discussions, Dougal and Lynn give their blessing to Anne. After all, they've encouraged this spirit of adventure in their children. So, after bidding an emotional farewell, the remaining Robertsons sail on to Miami. By now, they're running low on funds, so they stay in Florida for six months, working odd jobs to raise enough money to continue their expedition west.
Finally, in January 1972, a whole year since they left the UK, they're ready to start on the second leg of their trip. An epic journey for more than 7,000 nautical miles from the Gulf of Mexico to New Zealand. But there's a problem. They need to find a sixth crew member, someone to take over Ant's responsibilities on board. Fortunately, they soon encounter just the person. Sailing down Central America to Panama, the family dock in the port city of Colón,
Here they meet Robin Williams, a 24-year-old backpacker from Wales. We met an impressionable young lad from well-spoken, well-educated, on a gap year around the world, hitchhiking around the world. And we met up in the Marina Harbour in Cologne. And he wanted to go to New Zealand. And we said, well, we're going to New Zealand and, you know, you can book a passage there.
And we made an agreement and so Robin became one of the crew. Though he doesn't have any sailing experience, Robin is gregarious and good-humoured, an ideal presence to have around during the long journey ahead. And so, in early June, the Lucette sails down the Panama Canal, emerging into the great blue vastness of the Pacific. As they fashion a south-westward course for New Zealand, Douglas sits astride the prow,
his legs dangling over the water his curly blonde hair fluttering in the sea breeze he never wants this trip to end no no this was my life now you know nothing i was completely unfazed by anything and uh you know i just wanted to get moving as they skip over the waves the glittering ocean is only a shade darker blue than the sky but it doesn't take long before rain clouds gather overhead the pacific ocean
It's called Pacific, it means in French. And it means peaceful, right? But it is not a peaceful ocean, you know. I don't know where the hell they got that name from. They say that the name came because they wanted to encourage people to sail in the Pacific. And if they called it Pacific, it means it's peaceful. It means not tempestuous like the Atlantic Ocean. Then maybe more people would go there, you know.
The Robertsons are passing through a stretch of the ocean known as the Doldrums. Here, the northeast and southeast trade winds converge, resulting in a belt of low pressure and stagnant, windless sailing conditions. The area is also notorious for its heavy rainfall. Over the next seven days, it comes down in buckets. Only when they sail clear of the Doldrums do conditions finally improve.
But then, an unexpected encounter with a sea creature leaves Douglas and his family reeling. We had a big whale, baleen whale, try to make love to the yacht, rubbed itself up the hull and sort of scared, scary, because it was a big, big beast, you know, and the boat was sort of moving, flexing underneath the pressure that the whale was putting on it.
One flick of its colossal tail could smash a hole in the hull and send them to the bottom of the ocean. But eventually the whale loses interest and swims away. The sailors know how close they just came to catastrophe. It's a reminder that they're not alone out here. Far from it. After three weeks, the Lucette reaches the Galapagos Islands. The Robertsons and their new crewmen spend the next few days exploring one of the world's most unique natural habitats.
while volcanoes smolder in the distance. Giant tortoises and iguanas sun themselves on the rocky shoreline. Off the coast, a rich diversity of life comes to feed in the fertile waters. Bottlenose dolphins and humpback whales with jets of spray erupting from their blowholes. Then it's back aboard the Lucette for the next leg of the expedition. A 40-day sail to the Marquesas, an island archipelago in the South Pacific.
on june the 15th 1972 douglas is on deck with young sandy when he notices a tug on the fishing line 10 o'clock in the morning sandy's on watch and um the uh the fishing line is uh dancing about so i just i just pulled it in and there was a squid on the end of it you know and i took it off the hook and thought well we can eat that later
And I did say to Sandy as a throwaway comment, I said, you know, usually wherever there's squid, there's bigger fish, you know. And then I saw a shape, a dark black shape over on the starboard bow. And I wondered what it might be. I thought, well, it's not a bird because it's too solid in the...
in the seaway to be a bird, but, you know, but still it was over a couple of hundred yards away and nothing to get worried about. While Douglas and Sandy keep watch from the cockpit, the others are either sleeping peacefully in their cabins or making breakfast down in the galley. The sails billow softly in the breeze and the smell of coffee drifts up from below deck. And then suddenly, bang, bang, bang, huge strikes hit the boat underneath the water.
lifted the boat bodily out of the water, you know. And I thought to myself, what the bloody hell is that? Like, we've gone aground. We must have gone aground. And I poked my head down the hatch where Dougal was just now coming back to his working papers on the bunk. And he had water around his ankles. Seawater gushes into the cabin. Douglas scans around for the source of the leak. And then I heard this sort of
swishing noise behind me on the left hand side and I turned to the left and saw there three killer whales. Killer whales or orcas sit at the top of the ocean's food chain. Weighing up to five tons, they're powerful, fast and highly intelligent. They usually hunt in family units known as pods. One of them was a daddy one, 30 footer, blood pouring out of his head. The next one was a baby one and then beyond that was a mummy one.
but the dad was injured and I thought that that's not meant to happen. You know, animals don't hurt themselves in nature because their lives depend on it. And the whales scared, confused. The black fins slice through the water. The shimmering dark shapes glide under the surface before circling back towards the boat. Another thought enters Douglas's mind that these whales might be actively hunting them. He bolts for the hatch to warn his father.
I poked my head back down the hatch and said, Dad, there's whales outside. And I looked at him and he was up to his waist in water. I said, Dad, what are you doing? And he said to me, abandon ship. I said, abandon ship? I said, are you nuts? I said, we're in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. And he said, abandon ship. And I thought, he's nuts. He's nuts. There's no way we can abandon ship. This is in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Douglas scrambles back to the foredeck.
Then he hears his father's booming voice. And Dougal, I could hear him shouting, get the lifeboat over the side, get the dinghy over the side, get the life raft over the side. And I suddenly switched into, you know, I went from that mindset where I couldn't believe it was happening to the mindset where I could see the boat was settling by visibly settling in the water. And we probably only had a minute before we'd be under the water.
and I had to get the dinghy and the life raft over the side. Douglas races to the back of the yacht. He starts frantically detaching the dinghy from its berth. It's a nine-foot fiberglass tender with two oars, designed for making short trips to shore. Behind him, the rest of the crew stands huddled on what remains of the deck, which is now half submerged and listing violently. His mum stays calm as she helps Sandy and Neil into their life jackets.
Landlubber Robin looks stunned, the sleep fading fast from his eyes as cold seawater sweeps across his bare feet. So I got the dinghy, pulled it up, put it over the boat side, tied it onto the railing with a loose clove hitch and got the life raft over the side, pulled the cord and to our great lasting relief it inflated and started to unfold as it inflated.
Both the life raft and the dinghy are now in the water, rocking back and forth in the waves. The question now is when to abandon the Lucette. Most of their equipment and supplies are still below deck. In their mad rush to escape, the sailors have only been able to grab what was within reach. Do they dare go back down and retrieve a few more vital provisions? A moment later, this question is answered for them. Next second or two, I was washed off the deck. I was in the water with the boat.
and the Lissette was gone, you know. In an instant, their world has vanished from beneath their feet, and now they're treading water. Waves crash against their faces as they paddle towards the life raft. Lynn and Dougal stick close to the twins, making sure they don't get pulled away in the current. But Douglas is worrying about what's circling in the dark waters below them.
And I kept thinking to myself, those whales are going to get us. Any time now, they're going to get us. And I'd heard, you don't feel the bite. And I kept feeling for my legs to check they were still there. Douglas braces himself for razor-sharp teeth to sink into his legs. But the moment never comes. Eventually, all six shipwrecked sailors clamber aboard the inflatable raft, shocked and exhausted, but intact. Dougal grabs a rope and secures the raft to the dinghy.
They will have to figure out how best to use the two vessels. The dinghy is too small for them all to sit in, but at least it has a solid hull. It will be their backup in case something goes wrong with the larger inflatable craft. The Lucette is now just a pair of masts sinking below the churning waves before they, too, are swallowed up by the ocean. Two minutes later, we were all in the raft. Lucette had gone and we were faced with, I mean, we were in shock.
What had happened in those last two minutes was a major event, you know, and the consequences of it were clear to all of us that we were now in very serious trouble. Adrift in the Pacific, the Robertsons scan the surrounding water for dark, moving shapes. Their fear now is that their hunters will come back to finish them off, but the whales must have lost interest. At least for now, they're alone. However, as the fear of being eaten alive recedes,
is replaced by a crushing feeling of loss. We were frightened. We weren't panicking. We were frightened. And the twins were crying. And my mum said, "Don't cry. Don't be frightened. There's nothing to be frightened of. We're all together. The family has survived. We're all together." And the twins said, Neil, I think again it was, who said, "Look, we're not crying because we're frightened, Mum. We're crying because we've lost Lucette."
You know, not only had we been shipwrecked and had gone through a traumatic experience, but we'd lost our home as well. The enormity of what had happened hit us because we thought, we can't survive here. How are we going to survive here? You know, where are we going to go? What's the next step going to be, you know? And the enormity of the problems that were before us gradually settled on us.
Douglas peers around at the ocean and tries to take stock. Their rubber life raft is roughly eight feet by six feet and is tethered to the nine-foot dinghy. There's a canopy roof to protect them from the sun, but that's it as far as creature comforts go. The raft is lightweight, rudimentary, a last resort, certainly not built for the heavy swells of the eastern Pacific. Bobbing in the water around them is the detritus of their former lives. An item of clothing here, a book there,
They do manage to pull out a few useful things from the wreckage. Lynn's sewing kit, for instance, and a piece of sail. While abandoning ship, Dougal had managed to grab a kitchen knife, as well as some oranges and lemons, and a small sack of onions. But that's it for food. Inside the life raft, there's also a box containing two sets of emergency flares, 18 cans of water, a packet of glucose tablets, and some barley sugar sweets. It's a measly stockpile for six people to try and live off.
They have no maps, no compass, nor did they have the opportunity to send out a distress signal. The radio that we had was a valve-operated radio, and it took a few minutes for it to warm up. So we could have sent an SOS. It had more modern equipment. You can do that. But in those days, it would not have warmed up and come online before the boat had sank, you know, so...
So we were unable to get an SOS away. My mum came out with a statement. She said, Dougal, are we going to die? We need to know. And Dougal thought about that. And he thought about lying to us. And he thought, well, it would be wrong to lie to my family. You know, we are in a serious situation here. And if we are going to die, they deserve to be told the truth. He looks into the faces of his crew and tells it to them straight.
They are indeed in a serious spot of bother. But it's imperative that they don't panic. Their time aboard the Lucette has furnished them with level heads, resourcefulness and a deep working knowledge of what it takes to survive at sea. It might be enough to give them a fighting chance. I remember having a chat with my dad. We were looking for a rescue ship that we knew was not there.
And a flying fish skimmed out of the water and a frigate bird dove down and picked it up with its beak and flew off with it, you know. And I looked at my dad and said, bloody hell. I said, you know, we can't do that. You know, we can't do that. They've got millions of years on us, Dad. Millions of years. And he said something to me. He said, yes, Douglas. He said, they may have millions of years on us.
through evolution, you know. He said, "But we've got brains, and with brains we can make tools, and with tools we can bridge that gap."
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One of the first challenges is finding a way to actually maneuver themselves across the waves. Instead of simply drifting in whatever direction the wind is blowing, they fix one of the dinghy's oars so that it can stand upright like a mast. To this they attach the recovered sail. The dinghy can now harness the wind and slowly pull the raft in its wake. Now they must decide what direction to sail in. The Galapagos Islands are 200 miles behind them, upwind and up current.
Next closest are the Marquesas Islands, 4,000 miles away. It would take weeks, perhaps months to reach them. They are at a critical crossroads. The decisions they make in the coming minutes could determine whether they live or die. Strong leadership is essential. As captain, they all look to Dougal to provide it. In truth, though the kids all look up to their father, there's also an element of fear. And he said to me, and you've got to bear in mind my dad,
He was a very tough character and a very hard character. And, you know, he was always shouting at us for not doing something right. We never disobeyed him. That was, you know, forbidden on the boat. And he was a very angry man. If you didn't do what you were told, he would vent his wrath on you, you know.
usually with a beating or a shouting, severe shouting at. And he said to me, "Douglas, take the dinghy and enough water and food for yourself for ten days and row back to the Galapagos and race there long." Douglas can hardly believe what his father's suggesting. Going alone, rowing 200 miles to the Galapagos Islands against strong headwinds and powerful currents, it would take ten days at the very least.
It's a suicide mission. But standing up to his stern father means breaking a cardinal rule: never disobey the captain's orders. I said to Dougal, I said, "Dad, it's going to take me 10 days to get to Galapagos Islands, and that's if I don't stop." He said, "I'm not going to do it, Dad. It's a fool's errand." And I looked at him as he shook visibly and turned red, and I thought, "He's going to blow up over this."
And he turned to me and he said, "Douglas," he said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for asking you. I should never have asked you." And I said, "Dad, if I'm going to die, I want to die out here with you. I want to die as a family. I don't want to die out there alone and you die out here alone." And, you know, as we sat there, we made a pact together, Robin included, that if we ran out of water or we lost the dinghy, that we would die together as a group.
rather than individually at the expense of others. Having decided to stick together, no matter what, the Robertsons and Robin tried to come up with a plan. They're all at imminent risk of dehydration, with just 18 cans of drinking water between them. The only way to replenish their water supplies would be rain. That means sailing back to the doldrums, that band of ocean known for its windless conditions and wet weather.
Based on an estimate of their current location, it will take them 10 days to get there on a northwesterly course, a distance of around 300 nautical miles. And so a plan was made. A plan. We would rig the dinghy up as a towboat. We'd set it to trim. We could sail 45 degrees across the trade winds. So we could sail northwest. We could make a course northwest.
The sun rises in the east, it sets in the west. We can keep an idea of our course that we're making. We can make an observation of the seaway and decide if we're sailing or just drifting. And we have enough water for 10 days. In 10 days we'll be in the doldrums. So we'll sail to the center of the Pacific Ocean. We'll get to the doldrums. We'll fill up with water. We'll catch fish on the way. And we'll then catch the counter current
back to America. That will be our plan." Sailing back to the doldrums will also take them across commercial shipping lanes that run from Panama to New Zealand. With any luck, they'll be spotted by a passing freight ship and rescued. It's an ambitious scheme, but it's the best they can come up with. So, with their fragile craft creaking over the waves, the castaways begin their quest for rain. Douglas keeps one trained eye on the sky, scouring the blue expanses for a single cloud. But he knows it's wishful thinking.
We knew it wouldn't rain where we were because the clouds were... In the trade winds, it doesn't rain. They're small, fluffy white clouds that don't hold rain. So you don't often get a rain. And if you do, it doesn't last for very long in the trades. After the first day, they pass a sleepless night beneath the stars. As their second day adrift dawns, they continue their northwesterly course. They make slow but steady headway across the undulating ocean.
Despite the extreme isolation, the crew feels surprisingly optimistic as day two draws to an end. We were absolutely amazed after two days to see that we were still quite healthy looking.
You know, we weren't skeletal and dying of thirst yet, you know what I mean? You know, we're not particularly thirsty or hungry. We're surviving and we look all right. We looked at each other and thought, well, you look all right and you look okay. And, you know, we thought we're doing all right. But the true hardships of life aboard the raft gradually reveal themselves. For starters, the raft needs round-the-clock attention to keep it inflated.
Douglas and the others must constantly blow air into the valve to top up the CO2 levels. It's exhausting. That was a big job, a big job to keep that raft inflated by a mouth. It was a big job. And it was a job that I took on as being mainly my job. But we shared it around. You know, my mum did some, even the twins did some.
Robin did some, Dougal did a bit, okay? But we took it roughly rotationally, but I did the lion's share of it by a long way. And I knew the water was going out of my mouth by doing that, but we had to keep the raft inflated. With every breath out, Douglas is losing more precious moisture. But there's little choice. They have to stay afloat.
Even with their best efforts, the raft occasionally dips too low in the ocean and takes on water. Water was leaking in to the raft. There was a baler inside and we bailed the raft out, tried to keep it dry. And this became a harder and harder job to do as time went by. Day after day passes, baking in the relentless heat of the tropics. The sailors lose even more vital moisture through sweat. Out here, one way or another, salt becomes the enemy.
Drink seawater, and the body's kidneys use even more water just to expel it. Even having a dip in the ocean to cool off is unwise. The salt crust left on the skin will only make dehydration worse. They pass the long days by talking constantly about food. It's all they can think about. That, and the heat. Shimmering schools of fish dart about beneath the raft. But without bait or fishing lines, the Robertsons are powerless to catch them.
At one point Douglas spots a turtle swimming right alongside the raft. Ravenous to the point of desperation, he lunges for it. So I lift it out of the water and immediately it started chopping me with its very sharp fins. It's got on its front fins, they've got sharp trailing edges and it's karate chopping me with them, you know, across my forearms. So I threw it inside the raft.
Now suddenly we've got a turtle inside the raft, an inflatable raft, chopping away with its shot and backpacking with its shot beat. Everybody's like, it's like throwing a fox into a chicken hut. You know, everybody jumps up onto the sides to get away from this turtle. Dougal grabs the turtle, picks it up and throws it out through the other entrance at the other side of the raft. And it's gone. It's an opportunity missed. And it means another meal of onion scraps washed down with lemon juice.
But still, the close call with the turtle gives the crew confidence that they will catch another. The following day, that opportunity arrives. This time they're ready for it. They take a length of rope and bind its thrashing flippers. Then Dougal takes the knife and slits the turtle's throat. Bright red blood comes pouring out. So we had our first drink of turtle blood probably on day four. And we'd caught our first turtle and butchered it.
and inside it was full of eggs. We didn't realise there was a difference between males and females at this time, but the females are full of eggs. And so we were able to make a stew, like a soup, an egg yolk soup with some of the blood and some of the meat that we cut. We weren't put off at all as it was raw. We were hungry and we ate it and we liked it. And we thought, well, if we can just keep catching this,
we'll be all right, you know, if we can get this and we can keep some water, catch some rainwater, that will be enough. Slowly but surely, they're learning how to cope out here. Then, on the sixth day, they receive another stroke of luck. On the sixth day, it rained heavily in the morning, and we were absolutely gobsmacked as it rained. And we caught the rainwater in the canopy, and it was yellow and salty. We had to throw that away. But as soon as that sort of cleared away, we had some full cups of fresh water.
and we topped up the tins that we drank, we topped them up so we had a full set of water again. The Robertsons can't believe their good fortune. With their water stores replenished, they predict they can last another 10 days, more than enough time to get them to the doldrums, where hopefully more rain awaits. They sit there, quietly contemplating this welcome thought. Then suddenly, Dougal speaks up. And then suddenly Dougal says, "A ship, there's a ship out there." And we looked, and we looked out at sea,
We thought, I remember my mum saying, "God, please let this ship see it." You know, because this was going to be our salvation. Dougal scrambles across to the dinghy to prepare the emergency flares. The ship's hull rises and falls with the swell, getting larger and clearer on the horizon with each passing minute. She's getting closer. Seven miles, six miles, five miles, four. Soon, she's close enough to make out her name. Straat Kuk, a Dutch cargo ship.
Dougal waited and he said, "I don't want to waste these flares. I'm going to wait for it to get closer and closer." And gradually it got closer and closer. It was crossing from starboard to port, so it was going to Australia and New Zealand. The hull gradually lifted up above the horizon and we knew it was about three miles away at that point. Now's their chance. Dougal rips the lid off the flare and pulls the trigger. And we fired two of those flares, red flares.
They looked absolutely tiny and immaterial out in the big ocean. The red glowing projectiles spiral high into the grey haze before fizzling out. Several excruciating minutes pass, but still the cargo ship doesn't adjust her course. The ship isn't getting closer anymore. It's moving further away. Optimism turns to panic. The sailors need to do something to stop their one chance of salvation from slipping through their fingers.
Reaching for the whistle attached to his life jacket, Douglas blows with all his might. The others shout at the top of their lungs and wave their arms, desperately trying to make their small voices heard over the crashing waves and whistling wind. But it's no use. And we cried, and I blew on that whistle. And my mother begged for that ship to see us, you know, but it wasn't going to see us. And she eventually dipped below the horizon and was gone. Total despair, to have come so close to rescue.
only to have hope snatched away from them. What use is ten more days adrift if they can't flag down a passing vessel? Far from being almost over, their terrifying ordeal in the Pacific is only just getting started. In the next episode, we return to the castaway crew of the Lucette for the second and final part of Douglas' extraordinary story. If you don't want to wait a week, you can hear it right now by subscribing to Noiser Plus. Click the link in the description to find out more.
