There wasn’t a dry eye in the house during our monthly Sailors’ Scuttlebutt talk for June 2025, as more than fifty club members and guests sat spellbound listening to Esther Jordan’s harrowing account of her ordeal at sea.
Esther’s narrative recounted the catastrophic events that unfolded aboard the 55-foot ketch, Bluejacket, when she, her husband David, and two young friends—Jock (25 years old) and his girlfriend Jane (19 years old with little sailing experience)—were caught in an unexpected and violent storm while en route to Bermuda.
The vividness of Esther’s storytelling transported everyone into the heart of a terrifying crisis marked by immense natural forces and human resilience.
Even though Bluejacket had changed course for the Virgin Islands instead of the planned Bermuda given the incoming weather warning, the initial conditions at sea seemed manageable with “moderate” winds blowing steadily at over 30 knots and gusts reaching 50 knots.
However, as night fell and visibility plummeted to pitch blackness without even moonlight or starlight to provide guidance, the voyage turned into chaos. With towering swells measuring nine meters or more crashing against Bluejacket as frequent as 4 seconds apart, David made a critical decision for safety: both women would remain below deck while he and Jock took turns to stand watch on deck.
After Jock’s shift ended at the helm for the night, David assumed control and secured himself firmly with his harness in anticipation of increasingly rough seas.
In Esther’s own words: “the screaming wind was terrifying, I’ll never forget the sound of that wind. There was no moon, there was no stars, it was just pitch black”.
The atmosphere onboard was one of escalating dread as waves grew monstrous; soon David noticed an ominous dark shadow rising beside Bluejacket—a colossal wall of water poised to engulf them entirely. In an instant that would irrevocably alter their lives, this enormous wave struck with such force that it tore David’s harness free from its attachments, battered through the cockpit area causing structural damage including loss of the mast, rolled Bluejacket onto her side, and ultimately left a crippled vessel dismasted and taking on water while ejecting David into turbulent waters overboard.
Below deck were Esther, Jane, and Jock – already battle-bruised from tossing within their cabins – when they suddenly felt themselves lifted violently by what sounded like cascading torrents akin to Victoria Falls crashing down upon them. The interior became chaotic as unsecured and even well tied-down items flew wildly about.
When movement ceased they discovered extensive destruction: debris scattered throughout what had been their refuge below decks. Esther found herself wedged beneath floorboards with a pounding wound near her eye and two missing front teeth. And seawater pouring inside.
Despite shock and pain they managed to reach the deck only to be confronted by further devastation – not only was the yacht taking on water fast, the cockpit was obliterated leaving a gaping hole to port side; mast gone; communication and navigational systems destroyed; rudder jammed rendering steering impossible; and most devastatingly: David was nowhere to be seen.
Meanwhile in dark, cold waters David slowly floated away from the sinking Bluejacket, believing that she was taking his beloved Esther and their friends down with her.
In the pitch black night, he initially mistook an approaching silhouette for a whale, however, it turned out instead to be a life raft swept away alongside him during the chaos onboard Bluejacket.
Despite a dislocated and painful shoulder, he eventually managed to haul himself into this fragile lifeline only for it to repeatedly capsize under relentless ocean assault until it too began breaking apart leaving him exposed once again.
The next 24 hours was a game of survival that would prove to be not only a test of endurance but also an extraordinary testament to human courage confronted by nature’s fury at its most unforgiving.
Each heartbeat echoed with uncertainty as Esther, Jane, and Jock grappled with the haunting thought that their loved one might be gone forever. The chaos around them was a constant reminder of their dire situation; yet, in the depths of despair, they clung to hope as tightly as they clung to the remnants of Bluejacket.
Meanwhile, David battled his own demons in the dark water – each moment spent adrift intensified by the chilling belief that he might never see Esther again.
Both were trapped in a nightmare where survival demanded not only physical endurance but also an unwavering resolve to push through anguish and uncertainty for a chance at reunion.
It was at this point that Esther’s recounting of the memory of watching one of David’s shoes float past ensured that those in the clubhouse audience who had not yet succumbed to tears, joined the rest of us in wiping away some salty wetness from our cheeks.
After spending hours that felt like years holding on to the life raft for dear life, struggling to catch the attention of a passing ship using a small torch, David was eventually picked up by the US Navy on a secret Cold War mission and taken to hospital.
Not knowing what had happened to David, the remaining crew on Bluejacket baled out water and tried to derive a plan on how to remain above water while waiting for an opportunity to alert passing air or ocean traffic of their distress.
Back on land with David safe and authorities now knowing (or hoping) that Bluejacket was still out there somewhere and hoping for survivors, rescue missions were activated.
Soon a navy aircraft managed to spot the battered yacht and the large SOS painted on her deck by Jock in the hopes that someone would spot it and realise that they were in need of rescue. After circling around the boat a few times, the aircraft flew off, but the crew now knew that help was on the way.
After some time, a ship appeared on the horizon and slowly approached the half-sunken vessel.
But when the ship carefully manoeuvred beside her, in the true spirit of seamanship, Jock refused to leave the crippled Bluejacket and remained onboard whilst she was towed to land alongside the ship – sideways with her broken cockpit, sloshing seawater below deck, and locked-in-place rudder.
Just as Esther and Jane finally got raised to the deck of the ship, one of the officers leaned overboard and shouted: “Which of you is Mrs. Jordan?”. “Me, I am Mrs. Jordan,” Esther replied.
And then the words she never thought she’d hear: “Mam, your husband is alive!”
In the clubhouse, someone desperately tried to blow their nose whilst others tried to hide their tears.
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Dear Esther, we cannot thank you enough for plucking up the courage to share this harrowing story with us.
Your vivid recounting of that fateful night not only captivated our hearts but also left an indelible mark on our souls. The raw emotion and resilience you displayed in the face of unimaginable adversity serve as a powerful reminder of the strength of the human spirit.
Your willingness to relive such a traumatic experience has inspired us all to appreciate life’s fragility and cherish those we hold dear. Thank you for reminding us that even in our darkest moments, there is light to be found through courage and connection.
If you missed this month’s Sailor’s Scuttlebutt, make sure you don’t miss any more! This is the kind of heroic stories our fellow club members share with us each first Monday of the month, 17:00 for a 17:30 start, and we always try to have a few snacks and treats available on the day!
