Aboard my yacht, securely berthed in Gulf Harbour, Auckland, New Zealand I was listening to a high-frequency radio, following the progress of a fleet of sailing yachts sailing in a regatta to Tonga, 1,000 miles away, and at first I was envious. My plan had been to accompany the fleet, but business demands had kept me firmly anchored in New Zealand. But as the weekend progressed, I became more and more grateful that I was not out there. The radio crackled with the voices of people in distress. The crews of boats with names familiar to me reported dangerous conditions. They had sailed into a storm worse than any we had imagined likely at that time of year. While those at sea fought for their lives, we in port forwent sleep, glued to the radio throughout the days and nights of their ordeal. We followed the fortunes of those we knew and tracked the progress of those we did not. How were they coping? Were their boats and their seamanship equal to it? Would they pull through? These were hours of high drama. For more than 72 hours, daring rescues were performed by the Royal New Zealand Navy the Royal New Zealand Air Force, the French Navy, a fishing boat, and two freighters. Despite limited resources and the vast distances involved, 21 people were rescued. Scores of others battled their way through the rough storm successfully, while three people aboard one boat were lost to the sea.