Editor's Log
August 12, 2008
Electronic Greetings from Yamamoto Central!
It really bums me out to the max. The particular problem to be discussed herein lies at the heart of numerous senseless deaths each year, each death totally unnecessary on the strength of the fact that each was preventable. But it matters little - all of the victims (often kids or oldsters) are dead, just as surely.
As you may have surmised, our subject malady is the silent killer carbon monoxide, or CO. Carbon monoxide is an odorless, colorless and toxic gas. Because it is impossible to see, taste or smell its toxic fumes, CO can kill you before you are aware it is in your home, camper, tent or boat.
As regards recreational boaters, the Coast Guard was made aware of the deadly combination of generator exhaust and houseboat swim platforms as a result of a September 2000 study of houseboat carbon monoxide deaths on Lake Powell in Arizona. The study showed that stern swim platforms on certain houseboats created a cavity where the gasoline-powered generator exhaust port is located.
When the generator is running the CO buildup in the swim platform cavity and rear deck space is so high that it creates an imminent danger of death for anyone who enters the cavity even for a short period of time. The problem is not confined to houseboats, however, since any boat with the generator exhaust located in the transom and a swim platform could present the same lethal hazard. The Coast Guard is expanding its investigation of this problem to include all types of boats.
When CO is inhaled, it passes from the lungs into the hemoglobin molecules of red blood cells. CO binds to hemoglobin at the same site as and preferentially to oxygen, forming carboxyhemoglobin which interferes with the oxygen transport and gas exchange abilities of red blood cells. The body quickly becomes oxygen-starved, which can result in tissue damage and death.
Low levels of carbon monoxide poisoning cause symptoms similar to those of the flu or a cold, including shortness of breath on mild exertion, mild headaches, and nausea. Higher levels of poisoning lead to dizziness, mental confusion, severe headaches, nausea, and fainting on mild exertion. Ultimately, carbon monoxide poisoning can result in unconsciousness, permanent brain damage, and death.
Because carbon monoxide is slightly lighter than air, and also because it may be found contained in warm, rising air (exhaust), detectors should be placed on a wall about five feet above the floor, or even on the ceiling. If you have one CO detector install it in the sleeping quarters and make sure the alarm will wake you up. Detectors are set to alarm before the amount of CO would harm a healthy adult. Babies, pregnant women and the elderly are more sensitive.
CO can come from varied sources – un-vented heaters, leaking chimneys, wood stoves or furnaces. Auto, truck, or bus exhaust from attached garages, nearby roads, or parking areas can also be a source. The fact is that CO lurks all around us, awaiting its opportunity to attack friends or family.
My acquaintances and I have had far too many experiences with CO, unfortunately some were fatal mishaps. Thirty years ago, I lit a Coleman lantern hanging from the ceiling loop of my tent and promptly closed the upper zippered vents on the tent eaves – just until the tent warmed up you understand – ambient temperatures were hovering near zero. My friend Dan slugged me, hollering down at me as I lay there that I was trying to kill us both. He cared enough to get my attention, so that I would never again make that potentially deadly mistake.
A double handful of years later two family members of another good friend were discovered in their winter tent camp – graveyard dead, asphyxiated. Their lantern was hanging from the tent’s ceiling loop, still turned on but long out of fuel. Of course, the eave vents on the tent were zipped tightly against the elements.
Not that long ago a friend stayed behind in the family’s houseboat camp to see to a few chores and routine maintenance while the rest of the bunch went off exploring and water skiing for the day. Part of the chores required that he enter the water at the stern, near the generator’s exhaust. The family found him missing upon their return that afternoon – divers found his body later that evening.
More recently I was returning home with two clients at the end of a long and stormy day, battling six-footers with some twenty miles to go, taking the long way around the island in more protected water. I was glad to be in the wide ride, the deep, twenty-foot center console minimizing the miserable effects of the day’s conditions.
As I passed a major rocky point I grimaced at what I’d spied. There, a quarter mile off my port quarter was a cabin cruiser type, beam to the six-foot waves and soon to go aground on the rocks – holy crap. I went across to a sandy spit on the lee side of the island, deposited my two wide-eyed clients and returned to investigate. No amount of urging on my part was getting the couple out of their boat and into mine.
I told ‘em I couldn’t tow them but that I could move them to safety, but I would definitely scratch their boat in the process, maybe considerably. Once agreed I rigged them for a hip tow, me on the lee side of their high profile craft, and took them a mile across to where my clients anxiously awaited someone’s (anyone’s) return. Once I’d safely beached the cruiser the couple again proved their incredible damn fool stubbornness – no way were they leaving their boat even though it was 100% safe because not even a fool would venture forth in those conditions as the daylight waned.
So, once I’d checked their ship’s stores and found them adequate for a night’s stay, and after receiving a solemn oath from the fifty-something guy that they would stay put, I agreed to check on them the next morning and beat a hasty and tardy retreat for the safety of our home port. Man, it was good to get back, and the clients thought it had been a grand adventure.
With my long standing habit of rising at four, I was startled when the phone roused me from the deep. More startling was the fact that it was the head Ranger questioning me about my activities on the previous evening. Yes, I’d towed a cruiser; left it beached safely on the island, but what was the problem . . . I didn’t do it for hire . . . no . . . sure . . . I’ll meet you at the headquarters building in a half-hour.
The authorities had received a phone call, and subsequently found the two boats adrift, connected by a tow line, halfway back to the marina. All four folks were in the canvas-enclosed boat that had been towing the cruiser that I’d left safely on the island just a few hours earlier. They’d talked one of my well-meaning but inexperienced friends into launching and coming for them after dark. During the slow tow against a 40mph headwind the low pressure area behind the towing craft had filled the canvas enclosure with carbon monoxide – two dead, two in the hospital, one critical.
I didn’t know what to say then and I don’t know what to say now. Self recrimination, self doubt, guilt, anger . . . oh yeah, lots of anger. Of course the cruiser fifty-something dude recovered fully – the stupid bastards of the world rarely pay the ultimate price, but my friend is just as dead. This particular subject is a bit more emotional for me than most. It has just struck way too close to home for me.
Be careful; this is serious.
Good fishin’,
Jerry Puckett