June 25, 2026, Seward Folly Staff

Kate and Nate Straubinger and a friend spent the day of June 12 sailing the final leg of a two-day voyage back to Seward from Kodiak on their 35-foot sailboat, the Merlot, but as night fell, they ended up in the lee of No Name Island, just inside Resurrection Bay, hunkered down for the scariest night of their lives.  

The Merlot was traveling with other sailboats that day when they encountered engine problems. The wind was light, but a storm was forecast for that evening. The crew of the Merlot decided, after hours of troubleshooting, that the best option was to call a boat towing service to come out and tow them before the seas became unmanageable. As the Sea Tow vessel arrived, Kate noticed something odd:  the captain bailing the boat with a red bucket. As he edged close, he yelled, “My diving door malfunctioned,” allowing seawater to enter the boat. The Merlot loaned him an extra pump, and they were under tow and rounded Cape Ailalik at midnight. Kate described the conditions on the Cape as big rollers and confused seas, but reasonable. 

As they cleared No Name Island, the Sea Tow captain veered in toward the north side of the island. He hailed them on the radio, yelling for them to “drop your anchor.”  They frantically lowered their anchor in 200 feet of water – and the boat drifted right up to the steep, cliff-sided island before it held. The captain screamed, “Grab my tow line, pull me in,” as he tried to put on his survival suit. 

The Sea Tow boat made a pass with one motor almost submerged. They pulled the boat close, and the captain jumped aboard the Merlot. The group decided to cast off the sinking vessel before it damaged their boat.

That’s when they called the Coast Guard. They sat pitching and rolling violently in the boat, knowing any moment that the anchor could let loose. Kate recalls, “I guess about an hour into trying to fix the boat and waiting for the Coast Guard, we decided that even if we got the engine going — because he did get it going a few times, but then it died — we didn’t trust it to actually pull the anchor and get us off there without crashing into the rocks.” 

Nate could hear a banging noise and went forward to investigate, thinking they were hitting the rocks. The anchor chain had pulled apart the bow pulpit and was sawing through the hull, but the anchor still held, and they weren’t taking on water. 

The helicopter finally arrived at  4 a.m., hovering over them as it was getting light. The crew of the Merlot put on all their extra clothes, put their phones into Ziplocs, and waited. The original plan was to throw a basket down, but the Merlot was too close to the rocks. A rescue swimmer was lowered down and swam to them, grabbing a long line off their stern. He climbed up with a full mask on, a snorkel, and fins. He explained that they had to swim out, directly under the chopper, where a cable would lift them.

Kate went first, lying down on her paddleboard as the swimmer took her out toward the hovering chopper. She described the scene as “crazy, with the wind from the rotors, [she] thought her paddle board would flip.” The swimmer told her to put a horseshoe-like ring over her head, under her armpits, and to drop her arms tight. She was raised with the swimmer to the helicopter. The Sea Tow captain, who was showing signs of hypothermia, went next, although he insisted he go last. All four were loaded, and as the rescue swimmer finally crawled in, Kate noticed he looked exhausted. 

They flew to the airport in Seward. “We didn’t know how we were going to get home,” Kate said, “we thought we might have to walk home,” but as the chopper landed, police cars and ambulances were waiting. They took them to the hospital for a thorough examination.

Nate and Kate eventually retrieved the Merlot. It turns out it didn’t stay put, though. A friend had found it and had retrieved a few items, including her wedding ring. It drifted back around the Cape, westward to Harbor Island, miles and miles away, where they found it days later in 20 feet of water. Nate pulled up the chain, but the anchor was gone. The boat was at rest, floating patiently – only its dragging chain to slow it down. 

Kate was back at sea within days – in fact, she was at the helm during this interview. When asked if she was frightened to be back at sea after this ordeal, she admitted she was terrified during the whole thing, but she knew she just had to get back out on the water. 

Days later, mariners reported finding what was left of the Sea Tow vessel. Only bits and pieces floated up, as well as the survival suit the captain left behind, in Cliff Bay – clear back around the Cape. “That’s where the boat was found,” Kate finished up. “Yeah. And so, luck, you know, it’s just another reminder of how lucky we got.”