
WHOOOOSH! John barely had time to think as oxygen was
sucked into the instant inferno above him. Just seconds earlier he’d been simply
carrying out a repair in the saloon, now he was fighting to save his boat – and
his life...
It’s taken five years for John and Cheryl Kestle to finally be able to share the
story of the horrific experience they endured on a remote beach in the Gulf of
Carpentaria, Australia.

The months leading up to the fire had been perfect. After years of powercat
boating, the Kestles were living their retirement dream, delighted with their
35’ sailing cat, PHOENIX and looking forward to many more seasons aboard.
The boat’s name held more than the usual novelty value, John and Cheryl often
lightheartedly shared the fact that the boat had literally risen from the ashes
of a factory fire during its construction.
Before embarking on the long trip north, John and Cheryl had enjoyed short
shakedowns, learning about multihull sailing and affecting modifications to
their new boat. During work breaks from their respective jobs (Cheryl in nursing
and John as a Forester and Fire Control Officer), they prepared both themselves
and the boat for the extended cruise. New engines, davits, canopy, and sugar
scoops were fitted and in February ’97, the Kestles retired and excitedly
prepared for their trip of a lifetime. Good friends Bruce and Dawn on their
40-foot sailing cat, CATAPULT, accompanied them, leisurely exploring the
Queensland, Northern Territory and Western Australian coastlines. Stunning
sunsets, seafood feasts, great sailing – their dream of tropical cruising had
far exceeded their expectations. But, with the cyclone season looming, it was
soon time to return south and the two multis headed homeward.
Strong winds delayed them for a week in Karumba at the bottom of the rugged and
isolated Gulf of Carpentaria, but with no sign of the winds abating, it was
eventually decided to put to sea regardless and to make some headway. The
shallow waters of the Gulf are notorious for their extremely choppy nature in
less than ideal conditions, and the low bridge-deck PHOENIX really
suffered a pounding as they bashed to windward. After many hours of this
punishment, John and Cheryl noticed water on the carpet around the base of the
saloon table. Understandably alarmed, CATAPULT was notified and it was
immediately decided to seek shelter and investigate. A small creek was the
closest tributary,120 miles north of Karumba, and thousands more from anywhere
else.
The next day both boats were beached at high tide and the problem located. It
seemed that heavy drawers within the saloon table had worked the supporting leg
until it had slightly delaminated from the bridge-deck floor. While Cheryl,
Bruce and Dawn busied themselves with routine hull cleaning, John began
repairing the saloon floor, using the necessary assortment of materials...
glass, resin, acetone, and thinners. As anyone who has worked with these
chemicals knows, especially in the heat of the tropics, the fumes from these
materials are considerable – and highly combustible. To clear the fumes and aid
in the drying process, John set up a small 12-volt fan… And the nightmare began.

A single spark from the fan’s motor ignited the fumes instantly, setting the
starboard saloon roof afire, the extensive synthetic liner exuded thick acrid
smoke and provided a perfect channel for the fire’s destructive path. Cheryl was
quickly on hand with salt water in the cockpit, but the billowing clouds of
toxic black smoke soon forced her from the boat and she scrambled distraught off
the transom. Inside the now blazing saloon, John’s attempts to quell the inferno
with an extinguisher were proving useless and with horror he realized there was
no way he could leave the boat through the companionway – a wall of flames
barring his exit. His experience in Fire Control told him the situation was now
critical. Fighting panic, heat, and the overpowering fumes, he grabbed their
camera and logbook and retreated to the port forward cabin in a daze. Frantic
screams from the beach reached him through the maelstrom, as Cheryl, Bruce and
Dawn urged him to get out of the boat anyway he could. The fire was spreading at
an amazing speed and it wouldn’t be long before the entire coachroof was ablaze,
with any chance of escape remote. After an agonizing few minutes, John’s head
finally appeared out of the port hatch and he slowly crawled free, collapsing on
the deck in shock and exhaustion. More urgent coaxing was needed before he fell
10 feet from the deck to the sand, emotionally devastated and suffering from
smoke inhalation, but amazingly otherwise uninjured. An admirable attempt was
made to save the furler but John quickly realized nothing could be done but to
watch in horror as their beloved boat burnt to the sand. Having good friends
nearby was a blessing but the close proximity of CATAPULT was of definite
concern. Luckily the strong wind was blowing offshore as CATAPULT sat
only meters away – uninsured. Although obviously distressed, Dawn had the
forethought to grab her camera and photograph the disaster as it unfolded,
helping greatly in the ensuing insurance process.
One hour later, PHOENIX was gone.

John had narrowly escaped with his life. The placement of the 12-volt connector
in the cockpit had been fortuitous as he had popped his head out into the
cockpit to plug in the fan. Had he been breathing in the saloon when the fumes
ignited, his lungs, also holding the flammable ingredients, would have been
irreparably seared... As they watched PHOENIX burn helplessly, the full
impact of the incident’s horrific potential truly hit home...
Being so isolated, the boats were out of VHF range but a crab fisherman happened
to be camping on the creek and made contact with his brother who had an HF
radio. The Karumba Police was notified of the incident, but since no physical
injuries were sustained, investigations were delayed until the next day. John
and Cheryl collapsed aboard CATAPULT that night, the smouldering ashes of
PHOENIX beside them being slowly doused by the incoming tide.
The next morning they sifted through the ruins but apart from $25 in dollar
coins, their search was fruitless. The boat was completely gutted. The sailing
cat that just 48 hours earlier had been photographed while sailing happily was
now reduced to a surrealistic sculpture of charred framework resting forlornly
on a pile of sodden ash...

Luckily John had his wallet on him during the fire, saving important cards and a
little cash, but all of their liveaboard possessions were gone along with a
dream that had been years in bringing to fruition. John was particularly
distressed about losing the two new motors, fitted in October of ‘96 and just
one year later, almost to the day – completely decimated. PHOENIX’s mast
was gently laid out on the beach, literally the only thing left uncharred, but a
poignant reminder that not everything was lost – John and Cheryl heard a rumor
years later that the mast was discovered and utilized by a passing yachtie. They
like to hope so, at least a part of PHOENIX may have risen from the
ashes.
Seargeant Kennedy from Karumba arrived by 4-wheel drive and the Kestles were
taken back to the little township where they were touched by the community’s
generosity. Seargeant Kennedy and wife Anne, kindly opened their home to the
Kestles the first night, even lending them their car to drive during their stay.
Free motel accommodation was supplied by the townsfolk, along with clothing and
various offers of support. The consolation offered by Bruce and Dawn during and
after the catastrophe, followed by the kindness of strangers in Karumba, really
helped John and Cheryl get back on track.
Phoning family and friends was difficult – their first year of retired life
aboard hadn’t ended too well! Initial concerns and worries were sure to be
validated and the inevitable pleas to abandon the dream ensue... but their fears
were allayed by unconditional support. Not once was the notion of ‘jumping ship’
suggested. Their insurance company proved a considerate and efficient group.
Just 5-6 weeks after the loss, the Kestles were paid in full for the market
value of PHOENIX.

Determined to find another boat and resume cruising, they began immediately to
scour the East Coast for another multihull, and by December had found their
current boat, a Simpson 11m WINDSONG – with high bridge-deck clearance –
and no carpet or forerunners! Months of cruising the East Coast salved the
memory of losing PHOENIX and October ’98 found them, once again, in the
Whitsunday’s, enjoying the areas spectacular cruising grounds and totally happy
with their new boat’s performance and comfort. John’s birthday had rolled around
and on October 1 they headed out of Airlie Beach, intending to celebrate in one
of the many beautiful Whitsunday anchorages. They were flying along in blustery
but exhilarating conditions with the boat handling well, when a 40-knot bullet
hit and – BANG! The diamond stay let go and the mast bent – and then toppled.
“Could this really be happening?” they thought as the mess of mast, sail and
boom lay in a twisted wreck around them... Almost a year to the day and another
freak setback... After the tragedy and horror of the fire, a dismasting seemed
almost blasé. The situation was assessed, photos taken, and the rig then calmly
cut away.
PHOENIX may not have risen a second time from the ashes but John and Cheryl
certainly have, continuing to enjoy six months’ cruising each year and becoming
more than able sailors, even racing’ WINDSONG to success in numerous
regattas. Their story is inspirational, showing not only the indomitable spirit
of human nature, but also the powerful lure of a cruising lifestyle where
challenges on all scales often demand resilience beyond the norm…
