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Black Wave: A Family's Adventure at Sea and the Disaster That Saved Them

Black Wave: A Family's Adventure at Sea and the Disaster That Saved Them

3.9 19
by John Silverwood

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“I told God that if he would let us survive this night, I would make it mean something worthwhile. And then, somehow, I felt calmer than I have ever felt. Unreasonably so. Irrationally so. I looked over the scene of our wrecked life and I smiled–a crazy smile for sure–and I looked through the dark at the mad beauty of


“I told God that if he would let us survive this night, I would make it mean something worthwhile. And then, somehow, I felt calmer than I have ever felt. Unreasonably so. Irrationally so. I looked over the scene of our wrecked life and I smiled–a crazy smile for sure–and I looked through the dark at the mad beauty of it.”
–Jean Silverwood

An exhilarating true-life adventure of one family’s extraordinary sea voyage of self-discovery and survival, tragedy and triumph

Successful businessman John Silverwood and his wife, Jean, both experienced sailors, decided the time was right to give their four children a taste of thrilling life on the high seas. And indeed their journey aboard the fifty-five-foot catamaran Emerald Jane would have many extraordinary and profound moments, whether it was the peaceful late-night watches John enjoyed under the stunning celestial sky or the elation shared by the whole family at the sight of blissful pods of dolphin and migrating tortoises. John and Jean had hoped to use the trip as a teaching opportunity, with the Emerald Jane as a floating classroom in which to instruct their children in important lessons–not only about the natural world but about the beauty of human life when stripped down to its essence, far from the trappings of civilization.

Yet rather than flourishing amid the new freedoms and responsibilities thrust upon them, the children were sometimes confused, frightened, resentful. The two oldest, fourteen-year-old Ben and twelve-year-old Amelia, missed their friends and the comfortable life left behind in San Diego, while the two youngest, Jack, seven, and Camille, three, picked up on the stressful currents running above and below the surface–for throughout the journey, the Silverwood family found its bonds tested as never before.

John and Jean, whose marriage had weathered its share of storms, would wonder again if they had taken on too much as the physical, emotional, and financial strains of caring for the expensive catamaran and their children brought old resentments to the surface.

John’s dream trip that began on Long Island Sound ended almost two years later as a nightmare in treacherous waters off a remote atoll in French Polynesia, where, in an explosion of awesome violence, the terrifying brunt of the ocean’s anger fell upon the Emerald Jane.

Gradually, in the crucible of the sea, a stronger, more closely knit unit was forged. The Silverwoods became a crew. Then they became a family again. But just as it seemed to them that they had mastered every challenge, their world was shattered in a split-second of unimaginable horror. Now their real challenge began, forcing them to fight for their very lives.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

The jaw-dropping true tale of the Silverwood family and their awe-inspiring survival when faced with the most harrowing of events on the high seas is a truly remarkable account. Carrington Macduffie and Joe Barrett bring this story to life, capturing the tense journey down to the slightest detail in these realistic readings. While Macduffie certainly offers more in the line of theatrics, both performances are earnest and raw, allowing the listeners to ebb and flow with the story as if they were tucked away on the Silverwood's 50-foot catamaran. The journey is the destination in this tersely written tale, and with skilled, experienced narrators guiding the way, this trip proves seaworthy. A Random House hardcover (Reviews, Apr. 14).(June)

School Library Journal

Adult/High School

It could be said that the Silverwoods' account of hitting a coral reef off the Scilly Islands is a repeat of history, because their 50-foot catamaran, the Emerald Jane , did exactly what the tall sailing ship Julia Ann had done in 1855. Luckily for John, Jean, and their four children, they had the benefit of 21st-century survival gear, particularly the GPS survival beacon that provided the crucial link to the French emergency crews who saved them. Black Wave is an exciting tale; readers know from the start that the family survives, but what makes for deep engagement is learning the parallel story of Captain Pond and his crew and passengers. It is during John Silverwood's recovery and rehabilitation-his leg is crushed during the wreck and later amputated-that he learns about the Julia Ann . As he delves into its history and learns how the 19th-century crew dealt with their devastating misadventure, it helps him put his family's experience into perspective. This book shows that we all deal with catastrophic events differently, but if our actions are explored and investigated, we learn that human beings, no matter the era, have the same basic instincts and needs to make sense of their experiences.-Joanne Ligamari, Twin Rivers United School District, Sacramento, CA

Kirkus Reviews
A San Diego family's adventure-filled, two-year journey from New York to the South Pacific in a 55-foot catamaran sailboat. Along the way, the Silverwoods endured close encounters with modern-day pirates of the Caribbean, a Force-10 gale off Colombia, a broken generator in Tahiti and every kind of sea creature imaginable. In many ways, the children-Ben, 16, Amelia, 14, Jack, nine, and Camille, five-proved more resilient than their parents. John, an alcoholic, suffered several tumbles from the wagon early on, causing his admittedly high-strung wife Jean to nearly pack up the kids and leave. He soon righted himself, aided by some hastily arranged tropical AA meetings, and Jean was eventually calmed by daily runs on the beach and the companionship of a chance-met South African family making a similar round-the-world voyage. The Silverwoods' courage and survival skills got their ultimate test when the Emerald Jane crashed into a hidden reef in the remote South Pacific, destroying the boat and severely damaging John's leg. In this life-and-death trial, all of them were changed, brought together as few families ever are. The first-time authors prove able narrators and engaging hosts throughout this well-crafted memoir. Wisely, they focus not only on the natural wonders experienced on their marathon journey, but on the small everyday matters: meal preparations, the kids' home schooling at sea, mechanical problems with the boat. These up-close, authentic details enrich a story that works on many levels-as intimate family portrait, colorful travelogue and high-seas drama. Moreover, the Silverwoods wrecked on the same reef where a three-masted sailing ship, the Julia Ann, was struck back in1855,thus providing them with a riveting historical coda to their own adventure. Highly readable, educational and entertaining. Agent: Mel Berger/William Morris Agency

Product Details

Blackstone Audio, Inc.
Publication date:
Edition description:
Libary Edition, 6 CDs
Product dimensions:
6.20(w) x 6.80(h) x 1.20(d)

Read an Excerpt

[ 1 ]

a heart-shaped reef

In the same hour that the Emerald Jane was approaching Scilly Island in the South Pacific, my sister-in-law was alone in her New York home. A sharp crash made her jump: A watercolor of a racing sailboat had fallen from her wall to the hardwood floor. A wedding present from John and me, it had hung in the same spot for twenty-one years. Joanne, a little shaken, started calling around the family to find where we might be—she knew we were somewhere far at sea.


Below deck in our catamaran sailboat, my husband, John, stood in the doorway of our tiny stateroom. I can picture him there in that instant before everything changed. Our four children—we had pried them away from their suburban world for a thousand reasons—were busy elsewhere on the boat, settling in for the night. John had just told me how long it would probably take us to get to Fiji, our next destination by way of Tonga; some problems with the boom of the mainsail were slowing us down, but we could fix it in the morning. After Fiji, we would head for Australia. From there, the kids and I were planning to head home to the States, and John would stay long enough to clean up Emerald Jane and sell her—which can take months, and I worried about that. I guess I was worried about what might become of our marriage after this long adventure. I was also worried about the whole idea of selling a ship that had become like one of the family; I thought it would be particularly hard on John, who loved her the most.

We had done what we set out to do two years earlier when we first set sail. Along the way, our children’s eyes had opened to the beauty of the world. The kids were very strong characters now, very different from when we began. We loved them in new ways—maybe deeper ways, because we had taken the time to finally get to know them.

John said he had just finished a sweet conversation under the stars with Amelia, our fourteen-year-old daughter, during her turn at the wheel. She had followed him back inside and, by tossing the life vest to her sixteen-year-old brother, Ben, turned the “watch” over to him. He had been watching the movie Drop Dead Gorgeous on a laptop. Movies on DVD were a vestige of our once and future life, and Ben needed a dose of that now and then, as did we all. The boat was on automatic pilot as Ben prepared to go aft for his two-hour watch.

Everybody was finally happy to be together—it had taken a few thousand miles, but the family now seemed in synch and content. I don’t mean that it was perfect, but we had learned to live together in a tight space without too much drama.

We had about a minute left.

With our autopilot engaged, the boat was sailing itself in this moment. We thought.

I was propped up in bed with a laptop as John chatted from the doorway. He looked good. He is a handsome, green-eyed guy full of fun and energy. People sometimes say he looks like Dennis Quaid. Maybe so. He does have strong features and he’s certainly handsome. He has serious eyes that always give away what he’s thinking. He has, or rather had, a dark mustache. Amelia and I talked him into throwing it overboard during the long sail across the Pacific. He’s even better-looking with-out it.

He hadn’t had a drink since his big meltdown in the Caribbean, and I was pretty much in love with him again.

So you can picture the crew: Amelia looks a little older than her fourteen years. She has long, dark strawberry blond hair, and big, empathetic brown eyes. She is very fit, with a great, honest smile and the hint of dimples. She is very pretty and has a natural charisma that has always filled the space around her. She is eminently sensible, a peacemaker, Daddy’s girl. Ben, her older brother by a year and a half, is the surfer archetype: very blond hair, dazzling blue eyes, great smile when it breaks through the gloom of family unfairness, tallish to the point where he sometimes stoops a bit to fit into a crowd. Despite his rock shirts and his surfer looks, you would say he appears quite respectable: a top achiever in Scouts, perhaps, which is exactly right. Little green-eyed Camille, five, has long golden hair, pink cheeks, and a huge smile, which is nearly always beaming. Jack, her freckled nine-year-old brother, seems to have stepped out of an old Our Gang film: the neighborhood tough guy. His mouth is always a little open in wonder. His blond hair and hazel eyes are usually seen only in the blur of his constant explorations. My own hair is long and blond and my eyes are brown, like Amelia’s. I do apologize for the fact that we might seem like Southern California stereotypes. Guilty, I suppose.

It was just after dark in a lonely reach of the South Pacific. As we sped westward, the ocean floor was a mile below us—or it was supposed to be.

Then at that moment everything changed.

Like when microphone feedback suddenly fills an auditorium until you must cover your ears, a deafening shrill exploded through the boat. It seemed to come from everywhere. A big jostle. Horrible, gouging, scraping chalkboardlike sounds. The twin hulls under us were screaming. John looked at me the way someone in the next seat of an airplane might look if, at forty thousand feet, all the engines just quit. I had never seen him so instantly confused and horrified—then came the great shaking and crash as we bounced more violently between the iron-hard treetops of submerged coral, sharp as butcher knives. Seconds later we slammed full-on into the coral reef. Our home, the Emerald Jane, came to a ripping halt, and the great waves of the Pacific exploded around us in a deafening, continuous roar. John caught himself against the doorway. “My God!” he shouted, his eyes drilling crazily into mine. Everything about our lives had just changed and we knew it. Our lives, our children’s lives, could end in the dark of the sea in what? A minute from now? Less?

“Reef!” Ben screamed from the deck.

“It cannot be coral! We’re miles . . .” John yelled to himself and me as he bounded up the small stairway—I was right behind him.

“Dad! Dad! What’s happening?” Amelia shouted over the roaring surf and the loud tearing of the boat against the coral. She tried to cut him off in the salon. The Drop Dead laptop was dead on the floor; things had fallen everywhere. Our two younger kids, Jack and Camille, were on the salon’s big wraparound sofa under the front windows, petrified and gritting their teeth, their eyes incredibly wide and their hands hovering in front of them with their little fingers outstretched, shaking.

“It’s a reef, guys. We’re on a reef. We’ll be fine,” John said without stopping, pushing Amelia aside and running aft through the open glass door of the salon and leaping up the step to the teak deck of the cock-pit. His eyes were terrified and the kids saw that. They had never seen him like this before—though they had seen a lot. Then I came through behind him, grabbed flashlights, and they saw my eyes. I didn’t believe John’s quick analysis that we’d be fine. The kids took no comfort in it either. His eyes, truer than his lips, were saying, we are in very serious trouble.

He had been so careful to navigate us far around the coral atoll islands in this stretch of sea. Back in Tahiti, he had replaced the autopilot’s computer to make sure we had the very best.

As we looked over the edge of the deck into the dark sea—the moon had not yet risen—our flashlights revealed millions of hard, red fingers of coral tearing at our boat through the boiling surf. Our lights would not last for long, and John would soon be asking Ben to take a knife and do the unthinkable. So much would happen this night in the dark.

John threw the engine hard into reverse just as a high wave crested violently over the stern and over him with a loud crash. The double hulls smashed again with a horrible sound into the coral. He leapt through the flash flood on deck to reach the controls of the other engine. He hit the start button and pushed it hard into reverse. Both engines could not even begin to pull the boat off the reef.

Only the front, smaller jib sail, called the genoa and nicknamed the genny, had been in use. It absolutely had to be hauled down this instant if the engines were to have any chance. John pulled the genny’s thick Dacron line off one of the two stainless-steel, hourglass-shaped winches behind the wheels. The wind should have instantly spilled from the sail, but, in the windy whip and tangle of the moment, the line had jammed in a pulley somewhere forward. Ben, enough of a sailor now to understand that the sail had to be cut, snapped the handle of a diving knife into his father’s hand.

John zigzagged forward along the lurching deck. Crouching near the bow, he cut the line. As the genny snapped free to flap in the wind, the large metal reinforced tip of the sail—where the lines tie on—whistled toward his face. He leapt backward as it just missed his eyes; he had seen the glint of it coming thanks to flashlights Ben and Amelia were now shining forward from the aft deck.

The surf roared like a tumble of jet engines all around us. We were screaming to each other just to be heard.

I ran into the salon to help get the kids ready for our escape. Little Jack and Camille were still frozen in fear on the wraparound sofa—just sitting there hugging each other and shaking horribly. There were loud popping and cracking sounds. Looking down the stairs into the port hull, I was suddenly watching a disaster movie; it couldn’t be real: Water was filling the starboard hull as if a dam had burst. The view down the little stair-way was of water rushing floor to ceiling from Amelia’s room toward Ben’s. Her tennis shoes and bedclothes and books were swirling in the flood. Then the retreat of the sea pulled the water back toward Amelia’s room, drawing Ben’s things into the swirl, then back again. With each surge, the water was lapping higher up the steps toward the salon where we stood frozen, watching, maybe screaming. It couldn’t be real. The boat was being devoured now with each great wave.

Amelia and I grabbed canvas shopping totes and started collecting some of the flotsam that might be useful in the life raft, especially bottles of water and packages of food. Our hands were shaking so violently that it was hard to pick things up and put them in the bags—and I was slipping terribly on the wood floor. Jack said something but I could not make it out. “What, Jack?” I screamed over the din of crashing surf and cracking boat.

“I don’t want to die,” he screamed back.

“Me either!” little Camille screamed.

“We don’t want to die!” they screamed together.

Amelia was handling this better then I was; she put her arms around both of them.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “we have two other boats, remember? This is what they are for—just this kind of thing. It happens all the time.” They calmed down and sat back to watch this disaster movie. But they were shaking like we were.

I stepped outside to see how John and Ben were doing. They would have to get the emergency life raft going somehow. The other boat, the dinghy, wouldn’t last long swinging there on the stern in this surf.

The coral’s digestion of the boat had now become a steady fusillade of earsplitting cracks and pops as the hulls and bulkheads—remarkably strong carbon-fiber laminates—cracked apart. Our belongings began to wash around us. Even above this sound, a new, deep roar behind the boat made all the flashlight beams shine aft to reveal a cresting wave building high above us. Down it came, ripping the dinghy and its stainless-steel davits from the deck. The stern of Emerald Jane rose up and crashed on top of the loosened dinghy.

Even without the genny pulling the boat farther into the coral, our engines were useless against the power of the waves and the tightening grip of the coral.

“The radio!” John screamed as he passed by me in the cockpit. He headed through the open glass doors into the salon, where he stood for a second in shock to see the interior awash. He turned to Ben and pointed to the GPS position readout at the chart table. Somewhere in that instant, Ben found a pencil and scrap of paper to write down our position. John and I went the few steps down into the port hull, sloshing but not too deep yet, where the SSB radio was still getting power. John dialed in the emergency frequency and put the microphone close to his mouth to be heard over the roar of our destruction. We were standing in water and operating electrical equipment; I prayed that everything was grounded properly.

“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is sailing vessel Emerald Jane. We have struck a reef in position”—Ben reached down the stairs to hand him the scrap of paper—“approximately 16 degrees, 35 minutes south . . . We are sinking and in need of immediate assistance. Mayday. Mayday . . .”

Ben, seeing the fear in the eyes of the little ones, joined Amelia in offering some comfort. He scooped his little brother up and held him close as he turned on the less useful VHF radio in the salon and tried for an acknowledgment from a passing airliner or another ship. Nothing. Our lights began to flicker.

Meet the Author

John and Jean Silverwood live with their family in California.

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Black Wave: A Family's Adventure at Sea and the Disaster That Saved Them 3.9 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 19 reviews.
CDR_Stryker More than 1 year ago
As a career Navy officer and experienced sailor, I had heard anecdotally about this incident at sea but was thrilled to read the Silverwoods' story of peril, survival and redemption. I believe that everything we learn and experience in life ultimately prepares us for an incident like this and when it comes, we find out what we (and our family) are really made of. This is truly a Man vs. Man, Man vs. Nature and Man vs. Himself account brought to life aboard a luxury catamaran on the high seas. Plan to spend an entire afternoon reading this book because once you start, you can't put it down.
Guest More than 1 year ago
For me, this book was very difficult to read. I got about 110 pages into the book before I stopped reading. Even with all the drama of their disaster at sea, the story was pretty boring. It took Jean, who wrote the first part, more than 40 pages to get to their actual time at sea. The family history that came before that was not really that interesting. Also, when Jean spoke about her kids, she never seemed able to describe them well enough to make them feel real. Jean's writing wasn't very good, but that's to be expected. One thing that she did that was most annoying was her extreme detail when describing her family or their history. The only situation in the book that caught my attention or felt real was when John started drinking again. It also made their children more 3D since Jean wasn't trying to describe them herself, she was just explaining how they reacted to the situation. Overall, if you love hearing about a mother's (and father's) view of their children, especially as they overcome obstacles, then you might like this book.
mrsboone4 28 days ago
The parents John and Jean Silverwood who wrote the book, want to have their children experience life on a boat and all that nature has to offer. Their two older children are teenagers and caught up in the usual friends and material things that kids like. Their two younger children will experience the voyage and learn new things. The parents want to recapture the closeness with their two older children. Its quite an interesting story. Makes you wonder how your family would feel and deal with things that came up while they were sailing. They meet lots of new people, have inner struggles and ultimately become a stronger family. All four of the children want to take the same trip with their children, all on the water, except the oldest boy who wants to take a trip on land.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
One of the reason that i like it is because its adventurous and i find this book uniqe
bigdogDC More than 1 year ago
awsome book
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avidreaderDD More than 1 year ago
This book is "unputdownable". I highly recommend it.
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Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This book has to be one of my favorites. Great read and recommended
Guest More than 1 year ago
I TRULY enjoyed BLACK WAVE. The authors captured the advertureous heart of a sailor versus the worry and concern of a wife and mother yet, it was the family bond that helped them to survive. A really enjoyable read!! J.K. Boston, MA
Guest More than 1 year ago
What a survival story. I read it cover to cover and could not put it down. Even though tragic, it was a great read!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Picks mostly catmint an eats it because it is so good. "Ohhh. Now I have a bellyaches