As night fell , we knew we needed a different plan . We emptied out our storage cabin in the hope of gaining some protection . At around the size of a large suitcase , it was an incredibly tight fit for two large men . We clambered in and , as we shut the cabin hatch behind us , we knew we were surrendering the proactive fight for our lives . It was a profound moment for us both .
© Ben Duffy / Atlantic Campaigns
the cabin to sleep we would be thrown from side to side . At best we would get just three or four hours of sleep a day .
By 23 December , Chris and I were 1000km across the Atlantic , leading the race and sitting ahead of world record pace . Suddenly , an enormous rogue wave picked us up and slammed us upside down . Desperate for air , I scrambled to swim back to the surface from underneath our inverted boat . Chris did the same . Thankfully the boat self-righted a few seconds later . I clambered back on board and opened up our cabin hatch , but was immediately engulfed by smoke . The capsize had ignited a devastating fire , rendering the cabin uninhabitable and destroying all our vital equipment .
We extinguished the flames , but our relief was short lived . Almost immediately conditions took a dramatic turn for the worse and we were facing waves up to 15 metres high . We knew we needed urgent assistance and made the painful decision to activate our emergency beacon . All the blood , sweat and tears appeared lost . Within a matter of minutes , our goal had shifted from the dream of reaching Antigua to simply staying alive . To defend the boat against another possibly fatal capsize , we repeatedly launched ourselves at the rear cabin to push the boat over the crest of each wave for a brutal 12 hours .
We continued to be battered by enormous waves . It was at times impossible to tell if we were upside down or the right way up . With no certainty that anyone would be able to rescue us , it was a terrifying period which will stay with me forever . I crucially shone a laser 360 degrees around the horizon at regular intervals . We had to open the hatch to do so , which was dangerous as it risked flooding our cabin , but finally , after eight hours , I spotted a light shining back from the horizon .
We breathed a naive sigh of relief – things were about to get much worse . A 250-metre , 110,000-ton oil tanker was powering directly towards us . It hit us head on , almost crushing us completely . The crew threw a single buoyed rope and a ladder from the deck but neither was accessible in the conditions .
Suddenly , we felt our boat being dragged underneath the tanker . We were seconds away from being killed ; we had to leap for the safety ropes . Chris – closest to the rope – grabbed hold of the buoy , clipped on his harness and leapt . Meanwhile , the ladder was too high to reach properly . My only option was to place one hand either side of the bottom step of the ladder at full stretch , with no opportunity to connect my harness . As I clung on , I glanced back over my shoulder and saw our boat being swept beneath the tanker .
We hung from the side of the tanker for minutes . As our grip faltered , Chris attempted to bite the rope , ripping teeth from his mouth . He fell but remained connected by his harness , suspended in mid-air . I also fell , but with no harness I dropped straight into the ocean below . As I emerged on the surface , I saw the tanker , and Chris , powering away from me . I started to swim for my life . This absurd memory will always be etched into my mind : me , chasing after an oil tanker in the middle of the night in an Atlantic storm .
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