Rescuing the Buttercup

Sea Scouts

WE WERE MOORED at Solomon's Island midway through our nine day cruise with the Baltimore Yacht Club Fleet in 1956. It's located on the western shore of the Chesapeake, just across the river from the Naval Air Station at the mouth of the Patuxent River. We were supposed to cruise across the Bay and up the Choptank River to the Cambridge Yacht Club the next day. However, the Coast Guard advised us to stay put. Hurricane Betsy was passing offshore and they didn't want us going out onto the open waters until it was past.  

Solomon's Island, MD with the Patuxent Naval Air Station across the river

They called late that night to assure us we would be safe crossing the next day. Half way to Cambridge we received a panicked radio message from them asking where we were. The middle of the Bay we replied. Their advice, “Get the hell out of there. The hurricane has turned west and is headed right for you.”

We arrived at Cambridge well ahead of the hurricane, but the fleet captain was waiting for us on the dock when we moored. “The Buttercup is missing,” he informed us.

Cambridge Yacht Club, Choptank River, Eastern Shore of Maryland (click to enlarge)

The Buttercup was a twenty-four foot Chris Craft Express Cruiser with a young couple and their infant daughter on board. Our Skipper, Emerson Patton, didn't hesitate. We headed out to backtrack along our route looking for them. A Coast Guard Cutter was dispatched from Cambridge to search along the course towards us.

We didn't worry. We were too young to have the good sense to worry. Fortunately, this was the type of weather that our forty-three foot Crash Boat had been designed for.

Click to enlarge

We found the Buttercup first, almost midway between Solomon's Island and Cambridge. A hose that carried cooling water from a fitting in the bottom to the engine had broken, and they didn't discover it until their batteries were covered and shorted out. They had no engine, radio, or pumps.

Our Skipper's first inclination was to transfer the family to our boat but the seas were already to rough to get them safely aboard. Two of the older Sea Scouts leaped aboard with hand pumps. They took over and made sure the seacock was closed to prevent the boat from shipping any more water, and then began pumping it out. We rigged a towline and began the long haul back to Cambridge.

1950s 24' Chris Craft Express Cruiser

The only danger was the prospect that we might foul our propellers on crab pots that were planted thick at the mouth of the Choptank River. Long lines ran from the pots on the bottom to cork floats bobbing on the surface. Each float had a color coded stick that identified the owner. I volunteered to crawl onto the bow and watch for them.

Fortunately, I was dressed in a bathing suit and the water was warm. The bow dug into each giant wave and swept over me in a giant sheet. As the bow rose on the other side, I had a dandy view like a preacher in his pulpit raised high above the water. I quickly pointed to every float I could see ahead of us and then took a giant gulp of air as the bow plunged into the next wave. It took us about an hour to clear the field of crab pots.

We arrived in Cambridge just as the eye of the hurricane passed overhead, and we were able to moor ourselves and the Buttercup without any trouble.

Satellite Photo of Chesapeake Bay with hurricane superimposed

I remember later standing on the lawn in front of the yacht clubhouse. I was wearing a raincoat and spread my arms. I felt like a flying squirrel as the wind at the other side of the hurricane's eye filled the coat and held me up. I could not fall on my face no matter how far forward I leaned.