Above photo: The Elite Navigator, a 55-foot fishing vessel registered in St. John’s, N.L., was abandoned by the Lucky Seven on Wednesday, July 17, after a fire broke out onboard. Photo by Cody Rodgers
After over two days stranded at sea, the crew of the Elite Navigator, dubbed the “Lucky Seven,” were returned to Valleyfield, Newfoundland and Labrador, to support and fanfare from around the province.
The captain of the vessel, Eugene Carter, started his fishing trip like any other. He had just returned from fishing turbot aboard the Perfect Choice, offloaded his catch and turned back around for another trip aboard the Elite Navigator.
According to Carter, he and his crew were on their eighth day at sea. They had their catch aboard and were around an hour into their departure to come back to Valleyfield.
Carter acted as both the skipper and the cook of the ship. He was roasting chicken and making gravy for the crew when an alarm went off.
“I stopped for a second and went to the wheelhouse and looked at the alarm panel when I noticed it said, ‘smoke in the engine room,’” said Carter. “I didn’t see any smoke, so I went down and opened up the hatch to open up the engine room, and there wasn’t actually any smoke in the engine room, but it was starting to get a little cloudy.”
It wasn’t until Carter’s crewmate, Toby Peddle, opened the closet door and screamed, “Fire, fire, fire,” that the crew of the Elite Navigator realized how grave the situation was. Immediately, Peddle grabbed one of the boat’s fire extinguishers and got to work on dousing the flames. As soon as the first extinguisher ran out, the fire sprung back to life. By the time the crew grabbed the second extinguisher, the fire had grown out of control.
“I knew that it was too late. Our next action was to abandon ship,” said Carter.
The crew of seven immediately sprung to action once the call was made, donning their survival suits and preparing to plunge into the Atlantic and scramble aboard the life raft. Meanwhile, Carter deployed two life rafts — one from the starboard side and the other from the port side. From there, Carter and Peddle both sent out distress calls before going overboard. However, two crewmates were unable to retrieve their survival suits, as they were stored below deck. Consequently, these were the two crew members that couldn’t swim.
“The older guy and Toby, they were a bit afraid to jump over,” said Carter. “I calmly told them, ‘You hold your breath and you jump in that water, and one of us guys are going to get you and put you in that life raft.’ They took our word for it; they jumped in and didn’t even panic.”
Now, with six crew members in the raft and one in the water pushing them away from the vessel, a new problem presented itself. While Carter described the sea state on that day as calm, the tide was preventing the crew from getting clear of the Elite Navigator, which at that point was a “ball of flame,” according to Carter.
“We managed to drift towards the stem of the boat, and we got our hands on the very front stem and managed to give ourselves a good pull. That’s what got us clear of the front of the boat,” said Carter.
Once they were all aboard the life raft, the seven were in relatively high spirits. At this point, they were under the impression that their distress calls had reached their intended target, and rescue was on the way. However, by the time the fog rolled in, they realized that search and rescue efforts had gone awry. Their last hope, according to Carter, were their family and friends back home who expected them back by the next day.
“It finally got to the point where they were like, ‘Well, they should have cellphone service now.’ Once they took notice that we weren’t on any social media or sending any messages, they knew there was something wrong,” said Carter.
Now, stranded out in the North Atlantic in the cold with only sugar biscuits and water rations to keep them going, Carter and his crew had a lot to worry about. However, their morale never dipped. They told stories, shared jokes and tried to keep positive as they waited for rescue.
“I was sitting on the back of the raft the whole time with my head stuck out, just looking around and taking everything in and saying, ‘Boys, just hold in there. Those guys are professionals. They are going to come and find us.’ And everybody had the same outlook on it,” said Carter. “That was our next bit of hope.”
After over 48 hours at sea, the fog started to dissipate after a day over relatively high winds. At this point, the crew of the Elite Navigator had used up all but two signalling devices — a flare and a smoke signal — reserving the final two for when they needed them the most. Around 9:00 p.m., Carter made the decision to deploy the smoke signal, which he later found out was noticed by the CCGS Teleost, a Canadian Coast Guard research vessel that participated in the search and rescue efforts.
Around twilight, the crew heard the clear sound of a helicopter overhead.
“We didn’t know if we were actually hearing stuff, or we weren’t hearing stuff. We thought our minds were just playing tricks on us,” said Carter. “When I put my head out and looked up, the chopper was actually flying right over us. So, I said, ‘Boys, give me that flare.’ They passed me that flare and reached out as high as I could, and when I looked over, the chopper had gone past, but I did see bright lights, and I knew it was a bigger ship. So, I lit that flare and kept it up as high as I could. I kept it up until it burned out totally in my hand.”
It was then that the Lucky Seven saw the CCGS Teleost had turned and pointed their spotlight towards them, and shortly after the helicopter turned around and began hovering over their life raft.
“That’s the moment I knew we were going to be OK,” said Carter. “Toby was a bit cold, and that’s when he said a warm feeling came over him and everything just changed. I put my head in and my hands and started giving high-fives to everybody. It was a very exciting moment.”
Within moments, two search and rescue (SAR) technicians were in the life raft with the crew and planning for the stranded crew to board the CCGS Teleost. Once aboard, the crew were given a vital check from the medical team and spare clothes from the crew. From there, the Teleost steamed approximately 120 miles to Valleyfield harbour, where an outpouring of support from their community and peers was awaiting them.
“All of a sudden, we start to see some of the smaller boats come by. All of our close friends, they were on deck, pumping their chest and tears flowing,” said Carter. “As we got closer, the boats started pouring. It was like a rat’s nest of boats; it was crazy. That’s when I realized how much support New-Wes-Valley had for us.”
Since then, outpourings of support have streamed in from across the province and the country. Shortly after their arrival, Andrew Furey, Premier of Newfoundland and Labrador, stopped in Valleyfield to speak with the Lucky Seven and learn about their journey.
“It was incredibly special to be in that community yesterday. The community all came out to support the Lucky Seven. I was fortunate to spend most of the morning and mid-afternoon with the Lucky Seven, and their stories are incredible. If Hollywood isn’t paying attention, they should be. They all deserve to be called heroes, but the skipper made some incredible split-second decisions with calm and intellectual understanding of the situation,” said Furey. “They’re a beacon of hope for everyone in this industry and beyond. The impact they will have on Newfoundlanders and Labradorians will be felt for generations. I committed to them yesterday that, as a province, we’d be there to support them. But equally, as a province, we’d be there to erect a monument to the Lucky Seven and their safe return. We rightfully erect memorials when people don’t come home, but this is a positive story about when seven did come home, and it deserves to be celebrated.”
