The cries for help seeped into my sleep. It was early. The sky was brightening, though the sun had not yet reached the horizon. It was cold. I thought Mexico was supposed to be warm?!
We were berthed in the Cruiseport Marina in Ensenada, Mexico. Did I really hear someone calling for help? I wasn’t sure. I needed to pee but didn’t want to leave the warmth of our bed. I heard the call again.
I got out of bed, made my way to the main cabin, climbed the companionway steps, and stuck my head out the hatch for a look around. Thick, dark smoke billowed out of an old sailboat at the dock across from us. I dropped back below, woke Sharlene to tell her what was happening, threw on some more clothes, grabbed a fire extinguisher, and ran to the next dock.
As I arrived, the boat’s owner was on deck, spraying water from a garden hose through the main door and down toward the source of the smoke. I handed him my fire extinguisher. He quickly emptied its contents, extinguishing the fire. The man from the boat next door arrived about the same time as me with another fire extinguisher. The boat owner emptied that one too. Smoke continued to billow from below.
The boat owner picked up the garden hose and aimed it at the source of the smoke. He lamented that his dog was still below. He called for it, but there was no response. Despite our warnings, he climbed down into the thick smoke to look for his dog. Soon, we heard him talking to his dog—he had found him, unharmed. The dog had climbed far into the forward cabin, away from the flames and smoke. The owner coaxed the dog back through the smoke-filled cabin and up into the fresh air.
It was at this point that the owner realized he was naked from the waist down. He once again disappeared into the smoke to retrieve some pants.
Back on deck, he continued to pour water through the companionway into the smoking area. It was then that he told us a bathrobe, hung too close to an electric heater, had caught fire.
Later that afternoon, I returned to the boat to see how the man and his dog were doing. They were both okay. The man had some burns on his hands, but they were minor. The dog seemed fine. The fire had been in the aft cabin where the man slept. He had awoken shortly after the bathrobe ignited and gotten out. He told me there was a small amount of damage from the fire, but the smoke damage was extensive. He was lucky.
Later, I spoke with my brother—a retired firefighter. He said he’d been to a few boat fires in his career. They had all burned to the waterline. Once boats catch fire, there’s a lot of combustible material to keep them burning—diesel, propane, wood. Lots of things that burn well. The man was lucky.
This story doesn’t exactly have a happy ending, but it’s a pretty good one considering what could have happened.
Cormacks On Cambria 