In 1972, while travelling the world, the Robertsons’ boat was attacked by whales. They found themselves adrift for weeks on a tiny raft, forced to drink turtle blood, kill sharks and use enemas to stay hydrated, while fighting for their lives
It was 10am on a choppy morning at sea when 18-year-old Douglas Robertson heard a bang. Then another. And another. Their 13-metre (43ft) wooden schooner Lucette had been lifted out of the sea. “I thought: What the hell was that? We must have gone aground.” He looked at his father and discovered he was ankle-deep in water. Then he looked over his shoulder to the vastness of the Pacific. “There were three orcas; a daddy, mummy and a baby in between. The daddy’s head was split open and bleeding badly.”
He turned back to his father, who was now knee-deep in water. It was only then that it dawned on him what had happened. The whales had attacked the schooner. “Dougal said: ‘Abandon ship, we’re sinking!’” Douglas, who had a complex relationship with the father he adored and feared, always calls him by his first name. “I said: ‘Abandon ship? We’re not in the marina, we’re in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Abandon ship to where?’ Dougal said: ‘Over there.’ He pointed to the ocean. And I thought, he means it, he bloody well means it.”
