On the same hop from Miami Beach to Fernandina Beach we experienced an event that will make me wonder the rest of my life. We had already decided to head into Fernandina to avoid the next day’s storms and had chugged our way west out of the Gulf Stream but were still 30 - 40 miles offshore. Until noon we had regularly seen fishing boats but the new doom and gloom forecast had left us alone on the Atlantic despite it being Saturday. Greg was down below and I was at the helm marveling that the eastern horizon, rimmed with faint apricot, still reflected the last wee bit of the sunset though the western horizon was completed dark.
Suddenly in the east a red pulsating light hovered above the horizon and then fell, fading into oblivion within seconds of it forming. Oh my gosh! Was that an aerial flare? I noted my position, the compass bearing to where I saw the light, and the time. I hesitated to do anything based on this unexpected visual flash, questioning my own perception and reviewing the fact that a large percentage of flares turn out to be hoaxes or incidents where the shooter did not know that it is illegal to fire a flare except in the event of a real emergency. Illegal as in criminal penalties up to 6 years in jail.
Greg came up in the cockpit and I relayed my tale of seeing spots. He also was reluctant to take action. We debated the likelihood that it was a real distress signal. We could not come up with other lights such as an airplane which could have been confused with a flare. There is no land in that direction until you reach Africa. We could not pick up any other boats on our radar but our older radar is limited to 16 miles at best. We had our steaming light on at the time I witnessed the possible flare — since this light is half-way up the mast it is visible to someone just over the horizon and could prompt someone in distress to try to signal the only boat they saw — Yoohoo.
Then, as we still debated my credibility, I spied the second flare to the east, close to the bearing of the first. I shouted at Greg and he grabbed the binoculars and managed a look before it sizzled out ten seconds later. Two sets of eyes are definitely better than one at night at sea and the signal was much clearer this time as the eastern horizon was now totally black. It was an aerial flare. Greg took the bearing and I updated our position and called the Coast Guard fearing our transmission would be difficult to receive given our distance offshore. Coast Guard Sectors Canaveral, Ponce and Jacksonville all responded within seconds so I guess our transmission was fine!
The Coast Guard asked many questions, probably to sort out whether this was an honest report or a hoax, and probably to determine our level of competence in making such a report. We’d done well in noting our latitude and longitude and the bearing to the sighting but had to guess at the steps that would help the Coast Guard determine the likely distance of the flare from Yoohoo’s position. They issued an immediate Pan Pan call, a call put out to all vessels relaying urgent information, in this case to keep a sharp lookout for a vessel in distress in that location.
We thought that might be the end of their action unless other vessels reported sightings of the same flare. Our go-slow vessel was not in a position to search for anything floating rapidly north in the Gulf Stream as it would be long gone by the time we got there. So we continued on toward Fernandina silently contemplating whether people in a liferaft, a dinghy, or worse were desperately watching our light disappear over the far horizon. About an hour after our report to the Coast Guard they hailed us back, thanked us, and told us that they had dispatched a helicopter to search the area. Later, Greg heard the helicopter pilot hailing another sailboat via VHF to ask if everyone on board was OK. He did not hear the response. We’ll never know who shot those flares, whether they were indeed in distress, and what happened to them.
So, if you are at sea and believe you see a flare here is how you record the sighting:
1. Hold your fist up to the horizon at the position of the flare like you are holding you coffee mug. Place the bottom of your little finger on the horizon and count the number of fingers above the horizon that the flare rose. This is the step I missed and had to estimate after-the-fact.
2. Note the color of the flare, whether it rose and fell at equal speeds or whether it rose quickly and then descended slowly. Note how many seconds it was lit. This information will help determine the type of flare that was fired — meteor or parachute and it’s likely height above the water. The information from 1 and 2 will be used by the Coast Guard to estimate the distance from your reported position to the position of the flare.
3. Take a magnetic bearing to the flare, note your latitude and longitude, and the time. Then call the Coast Guard.
We hope our sighting was legitimate, that the people were found and are now safe. I also hope that my life never depends on such a marginal means of signaling for help!
