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The U. Coast Guard Marine Board of Investigation released a report and Final Action Memo on the February sinking of the foot crabber Destination and the deaths of six crew members. The page Coast Guard report comes to conclusions similar to the National Transportation Safety Board's accident brief released in July The report claims that unsafe stability conditions resulting from the carriage of heavier crab pots that exceeded the weight used in the stability instructions, additional weight and stability stress from bait loaded high on the vessel, excessive ice accumulations from freezing spray, and downflooding from the open No.
Madeau in the report. The report recommended that Coast Guard leadership conduct a targeted oversight audit on all commercial fishing vessels subject to the relevant stability requirements, but Commandant Rear Adm.
John P. Nadeau disagreed. Lee Boone, chief of Coast Guard Investigations. The report indicates that the boat owner, David Wilson, failed to provide the captain with accurate information to maintain the stability of the vessel following the installation of the bulbous bow, the new bulwark at the bow, and the use of heavier crab pots.
The Coast Guard recommended civil penalties. Jones were lost with the boat. Samuel Hill is the former associate editor for National Fisherman.
The crew included his brother, Darrik Seibold, and Kai, one of his best friends. There were hugs and stories of crab seasons past as the men broke open an pack of Rainier beer.
Dylan had been on a crab boat that already had caught its share for the season. He wanted more work, and asked if Hathaway knew of any openings. The captain gestured toward Darrik: Dylan could replace his brother.
Dylan thought the captain was making a bad joke. He brushed off the offer. Dylan would later learn his brother had reason to get off the boat. Darrik had hurt his hip during the recent cod harvest, according to texts that Kai had sent back home.
Still, Darrik was not going to give up his place on the Destination. He stayed silent about his injury. In the evening, Dylan joined the crew for pizza at the Norwegian Rat Saloon. Dylan wanted to party, down a few shots. His friends looked haggard, still beat down from the cod season. The Destination faced a dicey weather forecast as the boat left Dutch Harbor at p. The National Weather Service called for nearly 40 mph wind gusts over the next two days, up to foot seas and temperatures down to 18 degrees.
At that temperature, ocean spray would coat the vessel and gear in ice. The added weight, if not removed, would increase the risk of capsizing. Hathaway had encountered plenty of icing in his 23 years as captain of the Destination.
He understood the hazards. He had lost friends to boats that went down. But the captain was under pressure to leave Dutch Harbor because the boat -- after the long cod season -- was getting a late start on snow crab, which would be caught off the Pribilof Islands some miles to the north. The Destination had to deliver its catch to Trident Seafoods on the island of St. Paul; the plant planned to shut down crab processing by Feb. On the radio with another skipper, Hathaway fretted it would be hard to catch the boat's quota by then.
Hathaway is assumed to have the filled the deck with some pots, stacked five high. This was more pots than some other skippers say they would carry -- especially with freezing spray predicted. But it was typical for Hathaway for the start of the season. He wanted plenty of pots to catch crab, and any elevated risk would not last long. In a few days, he expected to lighten the load by dropping the baited pots overboard at the harvest grounds. Hathaway might have taken assurance from the boat's onboard loading guide.
The stability booklet was developed in by naval architects hired by Destination owner David Wilson to scrutinize the vessel and develop safe operating procedures. The booklet indicated the stack was under the Destination's pot limit for winter. The boat was supposed to be safe to take to sea.
The Destination had significant stability problems before it left Dutch Harbor, according to the page report, based on computer modeling. Investigators questioned basic assumptions made in the stability booklet, which put each crab pot's weight at pounds.
That might have been true once. But not by the time the boat departed from Dutch Harbor almost a quarter-century later. A Destination pot -- the only one retrieved from the sea floor the summer after the boat sank -- weighed pounds.
The Coast Guard analysis assigned that weight to each pot on deck for the boat's last voyage. The report concluded the Destination had too big a load to meet federal stability regulations developed for a landmark commercial fishing safety law. Any ice -- or water washing onto the deck -- would only add to the potential danger.
Nine ports in the boat's side allowed water to seep overboard. But the holes were too small, less than half the size required, according to the Coast Guard report. This meant water would drain from the deck more slowly, and the port openings -- in cold weather -- would become more vulnerable to freezing over.
Structural changes to the boat also may have contributed to stability problems. In , Wilson paid a shipyard to install a snout-shaped bulbous bow. Grafted onto a boat, this can help a vessel move through the water with less drag, improving fuel efficiency. Some crabbers have been leery about adding a bulbous bow, concerned the change might reduce the number of pots that naval architects would allow to be stacked on deck.
Gisli Olafsson, a Seattle-based naval architect hired by Wilson to design the Destination's bulbous bow, did not call for any reductions in the pot limit. In a Jan. He told The Seattle Times his calculations showed the boat met federal safety standards but said the letter was only valid for a year -- and that he did not know how the conditions of the boat might have changed by The Coast Guard found the bulbous bow had reduced the Destination stability.
Investigators wrote that the righting arm -- the angle at which the boat would roll over -- was decreased, and fell further below the standards required by federal regulations.
Hathaway told family and friends he was pleased with the performance of the bulbous bow. Dylan remembers a rocky first ride north after the installation. He said the boat had a different feel -- a hesitation before finishing each roll. Captain Bill Prout savored a cup of coffee in the wheelhouse of the Silver Spray at the tail end of his winter season catching snow crab off Alaska.
At a. Over the marine radio came a Coast Guard call-out: A distress signal had just been picked up from the Destination. The temperature hovered around 12 degrees, which meant sea spray could freeze on boats and add potentially dangerous weight.
He knew the Seattle-based Destination as a good boat with experienced crew. And, the captain, Jeff Hathaway, did things right. Maybe, in trying to shed ice, they had inadvertently knocked into the emergency locator beacon, setting off a false signal. Shortly after a. Could he try to hail the Destination on his radio? Prout remained unconvinced that something was wrong. Maybe the Destination crew -- for some reason -- had turned off the radio.
How he could be sure? Prout and crew changed course to go the 20 miles that separated their boat from the coordinates indicated by the distress signal. The goal was to reach the Pribilof Island of St.
Paul, drop off a load of bait, then begin the snow-crab harvest. If the six crew members followed their normal routines, they would catch some sleep between shifts of watch duty, which typically lasted up to two hours. On this northbound journey, the Destination would have ridden in the trough of the waves, exposing the boat -- and its load of crab pots stacked five high -- to the freezing spray.
The National Weather Service was forecasting light, then moderate and finally heavy spray for the last 14 hours of the boat's trip to St. The forecast appeared to be on target, as some other captains encountered difficult conditions. On Friday, Feb. The captain would later report that he stopped the boat four times -- and each time, it took hours to break off the ice. A transponder tracked the Destination's course and speed, generating data later obtained by Coast Guard and National Transportation Safety Board investigators.
Shortly before 10 p. Perhaps to allow the crew to tighten the chains that secured the load of pots. Perhaps to allow the crew to attack the ice with mallets or 6-foot steel pry bars.
Even then, it can be hard to knock ice off big loads of pots. So, in extreme weather, a skipper may drop some pots overboard. Mostly, the boat traveled at speeds that would have made it hard for the crew to get out on deck and remove the considerable ice that -- by the morning of Saturday, Feb.
The best -- and final -- opportunity to clear some of the ice would have come shortly after 5 a. George, an island south of St. The captain, Hathaway, at this early hour, could have been resting in his bunk, with a crewman on watch. He also might have been up -- concerned about freezing spray and surveying the situation from the wheelhouse. Whoever was at the helm chose to forge on. As the Destination motored past St.
George, the boat increased its speed to about 10 miles an hour. There was no pause to break ice. George Island.
The wind was blowing from the northeast as the boat entered a notorious stretch of water roiled not only by the wind but by strong currents intensified by the island land mass. They get real sharp, and they break. The boat jogged to the east. It made a sharp turn and began a final, slow pirouette at a. The red dot marks where the transponder stopped working. Investigators considered that the boat may have had a steering problem, as it sometimes had in the past before a major repair.
But they largely discounted that scenario, in part, because the boat's demise coincided with leaving the protection of the island's lee, according to a National Transportation Safety Board NTSB report released last July. Instead, investigators presume that rough seas pushed the ice-laden boat on its side, perhaps turning it over altogether. From 92 to tons of ice may have frozen onto the vessel, creating a "high probability of capsizing," according to a university study that used wave impact, weather and other information provided by the NTSB.
No time for a mayday call. Even the man on watch could have been down below for an engine-room check typically scheduled around that time. The rudder likely would have stopped functioning, the boat then pushed about by the currents. At , the transponder quit transmitting. The boat sank to the bottom of the sea. As the Silver Spray headed toward the Destination's last known position, Prout turned on the big, bright sodium lights he uses for nighttime crabbing.
At around a. The sun -- now filtering through low clouds -- illuminated the rugged, snow-streaked shoreline of St. George several miles away. When a boat goes down, the beacon is supposed to float free. But this EPIRB's line had been curiously tucked through the black tape that secured a thick yellow coil of rope. When disaster struck, perhaps someone rigged this up before going into the water, along with a buoy that also was recovered. In hours of searching, the Silver Spray did not find any of signs of the crew or a life raft.
They did find a life ring. The waves flipped it over to reveal the lettering:. The question confronted Dylan Hatfield on April 20, , as he and other relatives of the Destination crew rode an elevator to the 42nd floor of Seattle's Union Square.
The steel-hulled boat had gone down Feb. Dylan's brother, Darrik Seibold, and the five other crew were killed. Dylan had worked on the Destination for six years, and considered himself part of a fraternity that had shared in the hardships and rewards of the boat's fall and winter harvests.
In death, under maritime law, the value of their lives was far from equal. Wives and young children left behind were entitled to much more than was the family of Dylan's close friend, Kai Hamik, a bachelor with a longtime girlfriend. There was good reason to try to reach an accord. Failure risked a court battle with Wilson, the hands-on owner, that could leave them with nothing. Each family brought a lawyer. They all met together briefly, then went to separate rooms for a mediation organized by Edward "Mac" Archibald, a Seattle attorney who shuttled through the office to try to strike a deal.
The losses were fresh. The next day, they would mourn anew at a memorial service for Larry O'Grady, a year-old crewman from Poulsbo. In a March service in Shoreline to commemorate the crew, Wilson was overwhelmed by his emotions and chose not to speak. Instead, he had a pastor read his words:. Even though these men are gone, their memory will live on forever. A month later, Wilson's attorney maintained that, whatever had happened, the boat owner bore no fault.
So the legal liability was limited to the value of the vessel. Darrik Seibold had left behind a son, Eli, then 3. Dylan was there with his and Darrik's mother, Gayle Andrew, to negotiate for the boy.
Through the course of a long day, they watched the mediator come in and out of their suite with a spreadsheet that outlined a tentative settlement. Dylan and his mother found the whole process disturbing. They felt isolated from the others, pushed too fast and too hard to settle. Through the walls, they heard piercing cries. It was Kai's mother, Judy Hamik, who later said the proposal reflected a stinging lack of respect for her son.
Why do you have to beg from other families for more money? At the end of that Thursday, the families could not agree on what was fair, and reunited to discuss their next move. Wilson said no. And Friday morning, with no agreement among the families, his lawyer announced the out-of-court settlement offer would be withdrawn. Wilson threatened to file a federal action asserting that no money was due the families, according to a court document filed on behalf of one of the crew's estates. That prompted a flurry of phone calls and emails between families and their attorneys to try to come to terms.
Judy and her husband, Tom Hamik, still wanted to hold out. They were warned this could mess up the deal for other families. Reluctantly, they said yes. There were songs, remembrances and a slideshow on a gentle warm day for this man who had worked aboard the Destination for more than 20 years. O'Grady was a longtime friend of Wilson's.
The two had December birthdays and made a tradition of going out to lunch each year to celebrate. For Dylan Hatfield, the first year after the Destination sinking was a marathon of grieving, flying back and forth from his home in the fishing community of Petersburg, Alaska, to the Lower 48 for a group memorial and individual services. In Petersburg, he tried to console his mother over the death of his brother, Darrik Seibold.
Dylan feared he would be defined for the rest of his life as "former crew member of the doomed Destination. He watched videos that his friend Kai took of seasons on the boat, and scanned hundreds of pictures filed away in his computer.
In an eerie display of remembrance, he hung six pairs of bib rain pants, each marked with the name of a lost crewman, on the bronze fisherman's memorial statue at the Petersburg dock. Why was he alive, and not his brother? Dylan had left the Destination for another vessel that offered more money and then helped his brother, Darrik, to fill his slot. As Dylan drifted off to sleep -- his body clenched. Again and again, he found himself back on the boat as water poured in, and the crew fought for their lives.
In the mornings, Dylan was exhausted. Like he just climbed a mountain. The Bering Sea grave of the Destination lies more than feet down on the ocean floor. The Seattle-based crab boat lies on its side, many of its pots apparently still on deck.
The vessel went down quickly on Feb. Six men died in the worst Alaska crabbing accident in more than a decade.
The Coast Guard launched a Marine Board of Investigation to determine, as much as possible, what happened and to look for evidence of misconduct, negligence or willful violations of the law.
The site of the wreck -- seven miles from the Pribilof Island of St. George -- was confirmed by sonar imagery taken on July 8, , by the crew of a federal research vessel. The Destination faced southwest, and there was a scour line more than feet long where the boat appeared to have dragged along the sea bottom riven by strong currents.
The crew was never found. Investigators lined up on a dais to question witnesses under oath. The lead witness was Destination owner David Wilson, then He spoke softly, a silver-haired man in a blue blazer and collared shirt who didn't quite look the part of a trailblazing Northwest fisherman.
Wilson had dropped out of school in Sand Point, Alaska, after eighth grade, then went to sea. A skipper by his early 20s, he owned and operated boats in the intensely competitive Bering Sea crab harvests of the s and '80s. When federal fishery rules changed in , the catch history of Wilson's boats gained valuable rights -- year after year -- to a percentage of the overall harvests. His share could be caught by crews he hired on his boats. Or, he could sell or lease his crab-harvest rights to other operators.
By the time the Destination went down, Wilson's seagoing days were over. Former crewmen described him as a very involved owner -- nicknamed "the landlord" by Jeff Hathaway, the Destination's captain.
Wilson frequently checked on the progress of the harvest from his Edmonds home, helped with supplies and other shoreside support, and knew what it took to keep the boat stable and safe. But in his testimony, Wilson often seemed unfamiliar with the details of the boat's operations. Wilson said he was unsure how Hathaway set up shipboard wheelhouse watches. He didn't know the weight of the pots used to catch the crabs. He was not familiar with Hathaway's loading routines before the start of the season or the details of the Destination's stability booklet that set the maximum number of shipboard pots in winter.
The next day, former crewman Dylan Hatfield was called to testify. He had spent six years on the vessel and helped his brother, Darrik Seibold, and close friend, Kai Hamik, get jobs on the Destination. The investigators questioned Dylan for hours. Finally, they asked if he wanted to make any last remarks.
Dylan gathered his thoughts amid a long silence. Then, he cut loose. I'm deeply hurt. For what? So that a guy on the beach can get a check a couple of weeks sooner. You know, it's really disheartening.
And if I was a boat owner, or a quota holder, I think I would take a good hard look in the mirror and do some serious soul searching, because those were supposed to be your boys. During the hearings, Dylan spent some of his nights at a ranch near Port Orchard. Though it was his first time there, the corrals, riding stable and pond were familiar. On the Destination, skipper Jeff Hathaway had described all of it and more as he talked about the place where he and his wife raised The Fishing Boat Electronic City Design their daughter, Hannah.
Now his widow, Sue Hathaway, was enduring her first summer in decades without her man, tending to the horses and, like Dylan, struggling to understand what happened to sink the Destination.
She knew firsthand the risks of Bering Sea crabbing. As a young woman, she worked as a cook on a crab boat, and told Dylan about her own maritime disaster when she caught a ride on a vessel that rolled over. She spent hours in the water in an insulated survival suit until she made it to a life raft. Her husband likely had no time to The Destination Fishing Boat Deadliest Catch Online put on a survival suit. Even if Hathaway and the five other crewmen had managed to escape, they might not have been able to reach the life raft.
As a boat goes down, the life raft is supposed to break free. The Destination's was never found, so it may have stayed secured on the vessel. That is huge," Sue Hathaway said. He drank too much. He gained weight. His hair grew long and stringy. Still, in October , he had every intention of working the Bering Sea king crab harvest.
For the past three seasons, he had crewed aboard the Seattle-based Kari Marie for the skipper Jon Forsythe. He had prided himself on being a reliable crewman. A guy who always showed up, did the job. But he thought his return to crabbing would be selfish, further stressing his mother, Gayle Andrew.
Her son Darrik's death was a second shattering loss to the sea. In , the same year Dylan began his crabbing career, her longtime boyfriend, Tom Lewis, a halibut fisherman, went missing. It is a great life. But one day it is not so wonderful. They don't come home. And there is no closure. You never know what happened. When the day came to fly out to Dutch Harbor for the start of the season, Dylan's bags were packed. But he felt paralyzed. He couldn't go to the airport. He stayed in his room in Petersburg, and broke down in tears that flowed for days for the Destination dead and his own inability to return.
The Coast Guard retrieved a single crab pot -- battered and rusted -- from the ocean floor near the sunken Destination. Investigators weighed, measured and photographed the pot, then turned it over to captain Jeff Hathaway's widow, Sue, on Dec. As she loaded it on to a truck for the trip back home to her ranch near Port Orchard, two scallop shells fell out of the pot, along with a sea-bottom stone.
The scallop shells fit together with a tear-shaped hole in the middle of one. The stone bore a remarkable resemblance to Priest Rock, a towering crag near Dutch Harbor burned into Sue's memory more than 35 years earlier when the boat she was riding on went down. After she was rescued, this was the welcoming landmark she saw on her way back to port.
And in the many years that followed, Jeff would be sure to give a call home as the Destination passed by it. For Sue, the pot had delivered precious gifts, sent from the deep by her husband. The 7-foot-long pot now sits on a platform outside Sue's front door, a statue of a guardian angel by its side. It is super raw. After the Destination went down, David Wilson transferred the crab shares held by his company -- Destination Inc.
So the company keeps earning profits from the Bering Sea king and snow-crab harvests.
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