A terrifying medical episode in a remote anchorage tests liveaboards Miranda Baker and Elliot Russo \u2013 but reveals the strength of the cruising communityFriday evening, 21 February, 2025, and we are anchored inside a reef lagoon in a remote part of Raja Ampat, West Papua, Indonesia. The entrance to the lagoon is narrow, and uncharted. It\u2019s the type of approach that needs daylight and two people to navigate: one on the bow directing the course, the other steering.
\nThis isn\u2019t new to us. Elliot and I have been living aboard our 1985 Mason 48, Fortaleza, for four years and in that time we\u2019ve wiggled our way in and out of some tight spots. Through trial, and a couple of unmentionable errors that have left us grateful Fortaleza is steel hulled, we\u2019ve developed our own reef navigation signals to communicate from the bow to the cockpit, as well as a capacity to forgive each other\u2019s swearing.
\nElliot\u2019s Kiwi\/Aussie. I am British\/Kiwi. We met in New Zealand, and Covid lockdown had us move in together on our third date. Quite quickly we bought Fortaleza before spending nine long, filthy months living aboard in a boatyard, refitting her with the capacity to be self-reliant for long periods of time. We rewired, replumbed, re-rigged. We added solar, a watermaker and a sail plan for almost every eventuality.
\nThe ambition was to spend 5-10 years exploring the world in a westerly direction until we ran out of money. We had no real plan, except to live off-grid, avoid marinas, find remote beauty and do a lot of diving. We left New Zealand in June 2023 and, sailed through Niue, Tonga, Fiji, New Caledonia, Australia, Tasmania and up into Indonesia, clocking up over 14,500 life-changing miles and hooking our home into hundreds of anchorages. This one, in Raja Ampat, like many we\u2019ve spent time in, is extremely isolated.
\nFortaleza is a steel hulled 48ft Mason built in Auckland in 1985, and had a nine-month refit for remote cruising. Photo: Miranda Baker & Elliot Russo
\nUnexpected events
\nWe are about 125km from the nearest town, Sorong, and the nearest boats showing on our instruments are around 70km away. Weeim, the nearby island, is essentially just thick jungle with a small longboat fishing village at the furthest end.
\nWe are only here for a night, a stopover on our way south, back to the towering karst rock formations and magic of Misool, after three months exploring northern Raja Ampat. We left our previous anchorage early so we could arrive with good daylight and intend to leave again as soon as there\u2019s enough light to be able to navigate our way through the reef.
\nWe anchor. We snorkel. We eat dinner. We play Uno. We go to bed. It\u2019s hot in Indonesia, and muggy \u2013 even at night it can be 30\u00b0C inside the boat, so Elliot decides to sleep in the saloon. Life is good, normal \u2013 for us.
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\t\t\t\t\t\t\tFar ahead on the horizon we saw the sweep of a lighthouse and the pin pricks of street lamps along\u2026<\/p>\n
Until, at around 1230, Elliot wakes up and can\u2019t move his right side. His leg and his arm are unresponsive. It crosses his mind he may be having a stroke. Because he\u2019s an idiot, he doesn\u2019t wake me up. But after a while, when he regains some movement, he makes his way to the bathroom to find aspirin \u2013 you know, for the secret stroke he thinks he\u2019s having.
\nAt around 0130 I wake up, annoyed by his rummaging around. But it quickly becomes clear that things are not good. What follows is a blur of suppressed panic and a mad fumbled search of the boat for aspirin.
\nWe have an extensive medical kit, everything from OxyContin to injectable morphine and antibiotics. But it\u2019s aspirin that saves stroke victim\u2019s lives and the only medicine we are not carrying is aspirin. Accepting this, surrounded by cartons of every other drug we could carry, is, to put it mildly, devastating.
\nSeeking empty anchorages, here in Northland, New Zealand. Photo: Miranda Baker & Elliot Russo
\nCalm in a crisis
\nKnowing nothing medical can be done, we turn our attention to finding help. Eventually we find an email address for our insurance company but then Elliot begins to have a second episode. This one is worse. His mouth falls slanted sideways and he looks utterly confused and terrified as he tries to speak but can\u2019t form words.
\nElliot is my rock. He is the calm one of the two of us, sensible, unflappable. The only person I need in any crisis is Elliot. But it is Elliot who is in crisis. There\u2019s a horrific dawning that from this moment what I do matters and I need to hold it together.
\nElliot and I have sailed thousands of miles. Like most cruisers we\u2019ve moved pretty slowly, picking our moments to avoid the worst of predictable weather, but we\u2019ve still hit our share of drama and made our share of bad decisions. My first proper multi-day passage along New Zealand\u2019s north island gave us an unforecasted 40 knots on the nose for 12 hours of washing machine hell that had me Googling the price of llama farms as an alternative life plan.
\nArriving at Deal Island, Bass Strait, Tasmania. The couple sail two-handed. Photo: Miranda Baker & Elliot Russo
\nElliot, who had previously crewed a boat from Hobart to Picton through the Roaring Forties without a bimini or autopilot, was only bothered by our slowed SOG. Despite the sea state, he could still eat, and sing along badly to Tracy Chapman. He almost seemed happy. I just wondered if I was really cut out for this life.
\nEarlier in the same trip, under leaden skies on a fast broad reach, we\u2019d T-boned a massive, submerged tree at 8 knots. We thought we\u2019d hit a whale. Elliot was typically unfazed. At that evening\u2019s anchorage he jumped in the water to swim on the hull and, grinning, reported back that he was glad we were steel, we\u2019d only lost a little paint.
\nElliot grew up in Sydney around water, messing around on Hobie Cats, but was late to yachting, completing his Offshore Yachtmaster in his late 40s and crewing on other people\u2019s boats all around the world. There is nothing he can\u2019t turn his hand to. Fortaleza is the first boat he\u2019s owned and he knows every inch of her. Every wire, nut, bolt, splice, spare part, valve and hose clip.
\nI can be anxious. Twice, sleep deprived, I\u2019ve woken Elliot up, mid-ocean, convinced we are about to sail into another boat, only to be gently reassured that what I imagined to be a looming mast light is in fact a star.
\nBut despite this we are a good team. We\u2019ve managed to successfully sail our tiny home across oceans. Being out of sight of land, flying our enormous turquoise gennaker, with just a good breeze and each other for company, is a supremely happy experience for us. But in this remote lagoon in the dead of night, half the team is in serious trouble, and I need to focus.
\nOff Ribbon Reef No10 in Australia\u2019s Great Barrier Reef. Diving and snorkelling is a favourite activity. Photo: Miranda Baker & Elliot Russo
\nOut of range
\nWe are out of range of mobile coverage so I can\u2019t call anyone, but Starlink connects us to the internet. I begin messaging our insurance company\u2019s emergency team on Whatsapp. A medic helps me assess Elliot, and we agree he is having a stroke.
\nI give them our co-ordinates. They say they are organising a helicopter and reassure me I\u2019m not on my own, but neither thing feels true, and it occurs to me that the person I am texting at their desk probably doesn\u2019t grasp the remoteness of where we are. It also occurs to me that in the three months we\u2019ve been in Raja Ampat I haven\u2019t seen a single helicopter. The situation feels like a whirling, terrifying fairground ride I can\u2019t get off.
\nAnchored beside Josh and Kat on SV Phoenix at Wofoh Island, Raja Ampat. Josh was one of two volunteers who saved Fortaleza. Photo: Miranda Baker & Elliot Russo
\nI realise that if help does arrive we\u2019d need to be ready, so I start packing up the boat. I bring valuable things in from the cockpit, grab fishing gear from on deck. Outside the darkness feels suffocating. The air is still and oppressively hot, thick and gluey. There is not a single light, anywhere. I whisper quiet prayers to the sky.
\nI take a deep breath and go back downstairs. Elliot seems horribly broken. He looks up and his new face mouths \u2018Sorry\u2019 at me repeatedly. I wonder if he might die. Bizarrely, he is trying to do admin, moving money between accounts on his phone, jabbing at the screen with his left hand. I wonder if he thinks he might die too. He is clearly desperate for me to be OK if things get worse.
\nReaching out
\nAt 0345 the insurance company texts to tell me there is no helicopter. Despite already knowing this, I feel my stomach lurch with nausea. The advisor tells me to Mayday for help. I grab the radio, take a deep breath and say as calmly and clearly as I can \u201cMayday, Mayday, Mayday, this is sailing vessel Fortaleza, sailing vessel Fortaleza\u201d. My words seem to echo into a void.
\nElliot and I wait, eyes locked on each other, but there\u2019s no response. I try again, willing the silence to be broken. But there\u2019s nothing. No one is listening. And this is the moment that almost breaks me. I have a sensation of freefalling through a weightless, airless space. There is no one out there.
\nRefuelled and shipshape in Vuda, Fiji before their passage to New Caledonia. Photo: Miranda Baker & Elliot Russo
\nAt around 0400 Elliot begins to regain some sensation in his limbs and his face begins to morph slowly back to normal. His right side is weakened but very slowly he is able to move. He shifts from the sofa to bed and tries to rest. Alarmingly, I am told by text to wake him every 30 minutes to make sure he is breathing and coherent. Instead, for the next few hours, I check every 10 minutes, sitting on the bed beside him, holding my breath, desperate to hear his.
\nThe insurance company texts to say they are trying hard to raise the local search and rescue in Sorong. Perhaps as a response to feeling so utterly alone, I start talking aloud to myself \u201cShut the hatches\u201d. \u201cPack a bag\u201d. \u201cToothbrushes\u201d.
\n\u201cPadlock the lockers\u201d. \u201cPassports\u201d. \u201cMake sure the gas is off.\u201d \u201cIt\u2019ll be OK, it\u2019ll be OK, it\u2019ll be OK.\u201d I\u2019m not sure it will be.
\nI send a panicked text message to the only local person I know in the region, Wick, the owner of the marina in Sorong, 125km away. I briefly hesitate before I press send, concerned it might be rude to wake him up at such an hour, then actually laugh out loud at my Britishness. My text says: \u201cWick. Miranda here. I\u2019m sorry. I don\u2019t know who else to reach out to. Elliot seems to have had a stroke. I am alone and I don\u2019t know what to do. Please help.\u201d and I attach our location.
\nPreparing for night watch, in the Coral Sea on the way from New Caledonia to Australia. Photo: Miranda Baker & Elliot Russo
\nSecuring the boat
\nThe day starts to dawn at 0600 and the light brings comfort. The blackness of night had been intensifying the feeling of isolation. I\u2019m told contact has been made with search and rescue. They are going to come by boat from Sorong. They will be with us\u2026 in nine hours. They need a few hours to get their team together and then they estimate that the journey will take six more.
\nCrying with relief, I wake Elliot to tell him help is coming. It\u2019s nine hours away but it\u2019s something. It\u2019s hope. Elliot gets up and starts trying to get the boat organised, and I find myself shouting angrily at him to lie down.
\nWithout speaking we both know we have several serious problems. There\u2019s Elliot\u2019s health, obviously. But there\u2019s also our home, Fortaleza. Our entire life\u2019s possessions are here with us on this boat. She has safely carried us across oceans to some of the most beautiful places on earth.
\nShe is more than a boat to us, she is the third member of our little team. Even if we get rescued, the idea of leaving Fortaleza inside this reef without any idea of how, or when, we can get back to her, or whether she\u2019ll still be floating or functional when we do, is a massive source of additional anxiety. So many scenarios run through our heads, none of them good.
\nMiranda has gone from total novice to sailing 14,500 miles. Photo: Miranda Baker & Elliot Russo
\nAt 0700 Wick calls. He\u2019s woken to see my text message . \u201cMiranda, I am going to try and help you. What do you need?\u201d I bite my cheek and try not to blub.
\nI\u2019ve had an idea. I ask Wick if he could go to the marina and see if anyone there would be prepared to join the search and rescue boat out to where we are, and then sail Fortaleza back to Sorong.
\nWhat seems like moments later Wick calls me again and says he has two volunteers, Josh (already a good friend from another boat) and Albert (who we had met just once in passing). Without a moment\u2019s second thought, they are coming to save Fortaleza for us.
\nWhen I tell Elliot this we both, finally, allow ourselves to burst into sobbing, ugly tears of relief. It changes everything. Our precious home, and everything we own, is going to be safe. Now we can just focus on Elliot.
\nTwo nights in hospital in Sorong. Photo: Miranda Baker & Elliot Russo
\nHelp on scene
\nThe SAR team leaves Sorong with Josh and Albert at 0900. Help is actually coming. I silently thank the deities I pleaded with during the night.
\nElliot starts Googling his symptoms and we diagnose him with a TIA. By now he is pretty much back to physical normality but there is a serious possibility an actual stroke could follow. He needs aspirin urgently. I get a text from Josh telling me the SAR boat isn\u2019t carrying any.
\nI start recording short operational videos for Josh and Albert who will be taking care of our home. Every boat is unique, Fortaleza has her secrets and quirks. I guide them through how to start the engine, the switchboard, composting loo, bilge pumps, Starlink, fuel, power.
\nAround 1100 I see two guys approaching in a dugout fishing boat. One is wearing what looks like a hastily homemade police shirt. Initially \u2013 tired, overwhelmed, and frankly just a little bit busy \u2013 I am suspicious. They start to board Fortaleza uninvited and I wonder if, on top of everything else, I am now dealing with pirates.
\nAfter two nights in hospital in Sorong, the couple were medivac\u2019d by Lear Jet to a Singapore ICU. Photo: Miranda Baker & Elliot Russo
\nThe policeman\u2019s teeth are beetlejuice red, he speaks no English but smiles a lot. Eventually, we establish that they are from the nearest village and have been sent by the regional chief of police to wait with us until the SAR arrives. It is incredibly touching. I thank them but send them away \u2013 there\u2019s really nothing that they can do.
\nAt 1500 I get a text from Josh saying the rescue crew is 20 minutes away. I feel myself starting to shake. Half an hour later the SAR boat is in sight. It can\u2019t come through the reef into the lagoon but sets down a red inflatable and we watch people clamber into it. Soon afterwards we are being boarded by a team of medics and SAR staff as well as Josh and Albert. Never in my life have I been happier to see other humans. I can\u2019t stop hugging them. I am no longer the only person responsible for it all.
\nThe medics assess Elliot while I give Josh and Albert a whistlestop tour of Fortaleza. They are positive and confident and calm and kind and wonderful. I know what they are doing for us is enormous. They have a 20-hour overnight sail ahead of them on a boat they don\u2019t know. It is a moment of generosity we can never repay.
\nWithin 10 minutes we are waving goodbye from the inflatable, on our way out of the reef to the SAR boat and a six-hour voyage to Sorong. We have been rescued.
\nOn board, Elliot is laid on a gurney and put on oxygen.
\nI make my way to the back of the boat as the engines start roaring, and watch Fortaleza behind us, anchor already up, making her way slowly out of the reef.
\nStern to an empty Wofoh Island. Raja Ampat enthralled for three months\u2019 cruising. Photo: Miranda Baker & Elliot Russo
\nPost script
\nWeeks later, Elliot is miraculously well; physically fully restored. He was diagnosed as having had a stroke from a previously undiagnosed hole in his heart. Specialists are baffled by his recovery, given he didn\u2019t get any aspirin for almost 36 hours. Ultimately it was the sailing community in Sorong who dug through their medical kits to find us some \u2013 delivered to the hospital, with hugs, by Wick.
\nFortaleza is still in Indonesia\u2019s tropical deluges, being brilliantly well cared for in Tampa Garam, Wick\u2019s marina. We aim to regroup soon; get our little team back together, and continue on with our adventure.
\nLessons learned
\nThere are many lessons from our experience. Some for us but also, I hope, that the wider sailing community might benefit from.<\/p>\n
Starlink \u2013 Without it I would have had to set off our EPIRB. Being able to communicate with humans by text was vital. We are also going to invest in a Garmin inReach.
\nAspirin \u2013 Since hearing our story many cruisers have messaged telling us they have bought aspirin to have on board. But aspirin should NEVER be administered to a person suffering a suspected stroke without medical advice. If the stroke is actually not a blood clot but a brain bleed, with very similar symptoms, aspirin can make things much worse and could even kill your patient (I only learned this after our incident).
\nInsurance \u2013 Get it: no excuse. Not only are we covered for an eye-watering bill upwards of AU$140,000, the emergency response was immediate and outstanding.
\nMayday \u2013 In a lot of people\u2019s minds a Mayday is a cure-all, a certainty of help. It isn\u2019t. Have ways of alerting your emergency to land.
\nChannel 16 \u2013 Even if we had other boats anchored around us, I likely wouldn\u2019t have been able to raise them on VHF. Cruisers, as a rule, don\u2019t sleep with their radios on. In Indonesia Ch16 is often a rowdy channel \u2013 we\u2019ve even heard karaoke over it. We want to work with other cruisers to open unused channels in different regions, which we can all leave on overnight. I\u2019d love to hear from anyone keen to help us develop this idea.
\nContact numbers \u2013 Have emergency contact numbers noted somewhere obvious. I had to scroll through endless emails to find our insurance company\u2019s contact details and it was incredibly stressful.
\nMedical kit \u2013 We have a thorough medical kit, based on NZ\u2019s Cat 1 Offshore requirements. There is a lot in there, with a lot of unpronounceable labels. One day, bored in the middle of the Pacific, I wrote the uses of each medication on the visible facing edge of each box. While I didn\u2019t find what I needed, I did save a massive amount of time by not having to work out what each medicine was for.
\nHumans are awesome \u2013 Kindness seems to come as an equal and opposite force to terrible events. The sailing community in particular is extraordinary. The love, support and help we received from total strangers, as well as friends, has been truly humbling.<\/p>\n
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The post \u2018It quickly becomes clear that things are not good. What follows is a blur of suppressed panic and a mad fumbled search of the boat\u2026\u2019 appeared first on Yachting World.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
A terrifying medical episode in a remote anchorage tests liveaboards Miranda Baker and Elliot Russo \u2013 but reveals the strength of the cruising communityFriday evening, 21 February, 2025, and we are anchored inside a reef lagoon in a remote part … <\/p>\n