Appendicitis Offshore

A stomach ache turns into a life-threatening emergency while on passage.

- Andy Schell

Forty eight hours after having my appendix removed, and I was in a daze. I was stiff. I was sore. I hadn’t had a good poop in over half a week. I was bored.

Here’s what happened.

800 MILES TO LUNENBURG

We left Annapolis on a beautifully clear Saturday morning, July 2, with a brisk northwesterly blowing cooler, drier air behind a strong cold front that had passed over the night before. Is bjorn, the Swan 48 we use as a charter boat for taking paying passeners offshore, sailed all the way north on the Chesapeake to the entrance of the C&D canal on one tack. The wind was very shifty, heading us then lifting us as our crew, consisting of Bruce, Lance, Jim, Mike, Liz, my wife, Mia, and me, constantly trimmed sails.

By dawn Sunday morning we were offshore off Cape May with just enough wind to hoist the spinnaker. As we did so I noticed that my stomach was hurting a little, but put it down to the pasta from the night before, which normally doesn’t sit well with me.

I was woken up late Sunday night when I felt the boat lurch. Isbjorn had rolled and the spinnaker had collapsed, wrapping itself around the headstay. I rousted Bruce, and together we went to the foredeck to work out the mess in the dark. We doused the kite and set the pole, winging out the genoa instead and sailing on through the rest of the night. I went back to bed, begrudgingly acknowledging that my stomach ache seemed to have gotten worse…

I had a fitful night’s sleep. By next morning I’d lost the taste for coffee, a bad sign.

“There were a lot of weird noises coming out of the head!” Bruce said, and he was right. I had been in and out all night and most of Monday morning as well in a failed attempt to dislodge whatever was causing the malady in my bowels.