A Vacation to Remember — Surviving a Boat Propeller Accident in the British Virgin Islands

December 30, 2005 | Tortola, British Virgin Islands

On December 30, 2005, while vacationing with Laura and several of our closest friends in the beautiful British Virgin Islands, I experienced something that would forever change my perspective on just how quickly life can take an unexpected turn. What was supposed to be a relaxing 10-day Caribbean getaway nearly became my last vacation.

We were only on the second day of our trip, snorkeling at Pusser's Reef off the coast of Tortola, when the unthinkable happened. I was literally run over by a boat, and its propeller struck me multiple times. I was badly injured, bleeding heavily, and incredibly fortunate to still be alive.

After getting me out of the water and back aboard our boat, I remember asking Laura to take photographs of my injuries. It might sound like an unusual request under the circumstances, but at that moment, I genuinely wasn't sure I was going to survive. I wanted someone to document what had happened to me, just in case.

With the situation becoming increasingly serious, Laura and our captain worked to control the bleeding, stabilize me, and arrange an emergency evacuation. I was taken off the boat, placed in a taxi, and rushed to Peebles Hospital in Road Town, Tortola.

The injuries were significant: three propeller strikes to my head and another to the back of my right shoulder. Considering what had happened, the fact that I was conscious and still able to communicate was nothing short of remarkable.

Ironically, one of the friends vacationing with us was an actual trained trauma physician, Dr. Mike Suah. Unfortunately, in the confusion surrounding my evacuation, he missed our departure for the hospital. That meant Laura, the captain and I were on our own for what would turn out to be a rather unforgettable experience with Caribbean emergency medicine. A Hospital Experience Straight Out of a Bad Movie To say my experience at Peebles Hospital was unsettling would be an understatement.

The emergency room looked like something out of a bad movie. There was blood and other bodily fluids on the floors from other patients, gunshot victims were being treated nearby, and the entire scene was a far cry from what we were accustomed to back in the United States. And then came the really fun part. The hospital apparently didn't have any local anesthetic available to numb my wounds before stitching me up. So, with multiple deep cuts to my head, the medical staff proceeded to sew everything back together without the benefit of little more than watered down Novocain or any other numbing medication. Let me tell you, that HURT!

Once the stitching was finished, the hospital discharged me with instructions not to return to our boat that evening. Instead, Laura and I were told to stay at a local hotel for observation. So that's exactly what we did. Meanwhile, our friends and the crew took care of the boat and made arrangements to bring it around to pick us up the following morning.

At that point, I figured the worst was behind me. As it turned out, that might not be the case.

Round Two — The Hotel Balcony Operating Room

The following morning, now December 31, 2005, we were having breakfast with our friends when Dr. Suah asked if he could take a look at my injuries, so I removed the bandages to show him the hospital's handiwork. His reaction was not exactly reassuring. He looked at my head and said something along the lines of:

"This is NOT good. I can actually see your skull! We're going to have to redo all of these stitches. It looks like they may have used yarn to sew you up!"

Apparently, surviving a boat propeller accident and enduring stitches without little anesthetic wasn't quite enough excitement for one vacation. Now I was going to have the whole procedure done all over again. Fortunately, Dr. Suah had brought a proper medical suture kit with him on the trip. So, our hotel room balcony overlooking the beautiful British Virgin Islands was quickly transformed into a makeshift operating room. With Dr. Suah serving as my surgeon and Laura stepping into the role of his very capable nurse and the local police detective watching over the process for her records, they began the painstaking process of removing the hospital's stitches and properly repairing my wounds. One by one, the original stitches came out and new ones went in. Dr. Suah continued working until he eventually ran out of suture material in his kit.

New Year's Eve — Stay or Go Home?

By the time Dr. Mike and Nurse Laura had finished putting me back together, it was December 31, 2005 — New Year's Eve. Now we had a decision to make. Do we somehow try to get back to the United States, or do we stay and finish the vacation? Flying wasn't considered a safe option at the time because of my head injuries. And even if we managed to get back to the States, it was New Year's Eve. We wondered what kind of medical care and follow-up we could realistically arrange over the holiday.

On the other hand, I had already survived the accident, my wounds had been attended to, and I had something most vacationers don't travel with: my own personal trauma doctor and a very dedicated nurse named Laura. After weighing our options, we decided to stay. After all, what else could possibly go wrong?

So, with approximately 72 stitches in my head, a badly injured shoulder, and a newfound appreciation for simply being alive, we continued our Caribbean vacation and we had a heck of a party on our 55’ sailboat moored in the Bitter End Bay and we made the best of it. Was it the smartest decision? Maybe, maybe not. But at the time, with Dr. Suah keeping an eye on me and Laura making sure I was taken care of, it seemed like the best option.

Looking back more than two decades later, I still find it remarkable how close I came to losing my life that afternoon. A few inches one way or another, and this story could have had a very different ending. I was incredibly fortunate to survive, and even more fortunate to have Laura, Dr. Mike Suah, our captain, and our friends there to help me through it.

The photographs that follow tell a story that words alone can't fully capture — from the immediate aftermath of the accident to my rather unconventional reconstructive surgery on a hotel balcony in Tortola. And here's the part that still makes me smile. Despite being run over by a boat, nearly losing my life, enduring two rounds of stitches, and spending the rest of the trip with 72 stitches in my head, it was actually a GREAT vacation! Sometimes the most unforgettable adventures aren't the ones you planned.

And sometimes, just being around to tell the story is the greatest adventure of all. And remember, scars are just tattoos with better stories.