Real Survival Stories - Father & Daughter Thrown Overboard: A Parent's Nightmare

Episode Date: June 17, 2026

In May 2021, keen yachtsman Glenn Anderson is sailing up the coast of Western Australia with his 11-year-old daughter, Ruby. As they near the halfway point of their adventure, conditions turn brutally rough. And when their yacht is struck by a freak wave, father and daughter will be sent tumbling into the seething, danger-filled waters of the Indian Ocean. But falling overboard is just the beginning. With their vessel disappearing in the storm, Glenn will find himself in a terrible position as a captain... and an even worse one as a father... A Noiser podcast production. Hosted by John Hopkins. Written by Joe Viner | Produced by Ed Baranski | Assistant Producer: Luke Lonergan | Production Assistant: Chris McDonald | Exec produced by Joel Duddell | Sound Supervisor: Matt Peaty | Sound design by Jacob Booth | Assembly edit by Rob Plummer | Compositions by Oliver Baines, Dorry Macaulay, Tom Pink | Mix & mastering: Ralph Tittley. For ad-free listening, bonus material and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Click the subscription banner at the top of the feed to get started. Or go to noiser.com/subscriptions If you have an amazing survival story of your own that you’d like to put forward for the show, let us know. Drop us an email at [e-mail] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

The 2026 Chevrolet Tracks is the stylish SUV for those on the move. And with the standard Chevy safety assist package, you have the backup to handle every turn with confidence. The 26 tracks. Start your build at Chevrolet.ca. It's early afternoon, Sunday, May the 30th, 2021. On the coast of Western Australia, Gale force winds churned the waters of Juryon Bay into a turbid frenzy. The 40-knot gusts are multidirectional, blowing, it seems, from every angle, from all points of the compass. The result is confusion and chaos, an angry, frothing maelstrom. Waves barrel into each other, their foamy crests merging and erupting in vertical blasts of spray.

Though we are just two nautical miles from shore, the rocky headland is obscured behind a shroud of sea fog. On one of the small islands that guard the entrance to the bay, the glow of a lighthouse perforates the mist. A faint white pinprick in the all-consuming grey. On karma days, this stretch of coast is popular with sailors and surfers, but nobody would venture out in conditions like these. And today, there isn't a soul out there. At least, there shouldn't be. But four kilometers out to sea beyond the reef that skirts the bay's white, wide mouth, a pair of red life jackets are visible against the side of a surging five-meter

swell. 41-year-old Glenn Anderson and his daughter, Ruby, just 11 years old. Glenn reaches for his daughter and pulls her into him, seconds before a massive wave rolls over their heads, forcing them both under. They emerge, gasping and disoriented, the whites of their eyes gleaming in the murky half darkness. With one hand gripping Ruby's life jacket, Glenn scans the debris that floats around them, searching for something buoyant to hold onto. I remember I grabbed a wooden oar and kind of tucked that under Ruby's arms to help her float while I was still holding her.

And then I also grabbed a die slipper that was floating nearby. Glenn shoves one foot into the flipper, which luckily is the right size. and he lifts his head and begins frantically looking for their boat amid the rollicking waves. There it is about ten meters away, lurching up and down on the heavy swell. It's close enough for Glenn to make out

what's happening on deck. There three other crew members emerge from the cabin to find Glenn and Ruby gone. Glenn catches their attention, bellowing for help at the top of his lungs and waving his free arm. The crew, having spotted did the two in the water rush to start the boat's engine so they can turn it around and pick them up.

But something's wrong. The engine won't start. And meanwhile, the vessel is drifting further and further from Glenn and Ruby. Glenn adjusts his grip around his daughter's chest and starts desperately paddling in the direction of the boat. So they've kind of drifted towards where there were more breaking waves and we're all trying to swim towards them, but the boat was drifting further down wind from us. They're drifting faster than we could swim. Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes. If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice?

Welcome to real survival stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations. People suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we meet 41-year-old Glenn Anderson. In May 2021, the schoolteacher and keen amateur yachtsman is sailing up the coast of Western Australia with his 11-year-old daughter Ruby. For Glenn, the trip is an opportunity to share his passion with his child, and maybe to pass on his love of sailing to her.

But as they near the halfway point of their adventure, things are not going to plan. Conditions are rough, and Ruby, though she puts on a brave face, is struggling. And then things go from bad to worse. all of a sudden I heard a noise, a noise of a wave breaking, just off to our port side. And I looked at probably 50 metres away, there was a wave, which I would say would have been about 15 feet high. When a freak wave slams into the yacht, Glenn and Ruby will be thrown overboard, pitched headlong into the seething waters of the Indian Ocean.

Ruby was almost asleep at the time, so she had no idea what had happened. She hadn't seen or heard the wave. next thing she knew she was waking up in the ocean. Falling overboard will be just the beginning. With his terrified daughter being pushed by the waves in one direction and his boat rapidly drifting away in the other, Glenn will find himself in a terrible position as a captain and an even worse one as a father.

Rivie and I were separated from the rest of the crew without a beacon, without any way of anyone knowing exactly where we were. I'm John Hopkins. From the Noisor Podcast Network, this is real survival stories. It's Saturday the 29th of May 2021, just off Rottenest Island near Perth, Western Australia. 41-year-old Glenn Anderson stands on the deck of his anchored yacht, surveying the sky above the Indian Ocean. White cumulus clouds, mass overhead, bruised with dark pockets of rain. May can be a tricky month here in the southern hemisphere, a transitional period when balmy autumns give way to wet, blusts,

winters. Glenn scours the horizon, stroking his bearded chin. A stiff breeze is blowing, dappling the sea with jagged white caps. Weather reports predict this wind to get stronger, with forecasted gusts of 25 to 30 knots. Those are rough conditions, sporty, as Glenn likes to refer to them, with perhaps a touch of understatement. Maybe it would be best to stay where they are, anchored to windward off the coast of Rottenest Island and wait for the bad weather to pass. So the option was to either stay at Rottenest on the protected side of the island or push on and try and get to the next kind of waypoint which was just north of Durian Bay. The decision was like the crew that we would leave and take on the weather

rather than waiting a few days and, you know, kind of running out of time or having less time to spend elsewhere because we'd waited. The decision is made democratically as a crew. But as captain, the buck stops with Glenn. When all is said and done, it is he who must weigh the risks against the rewards. And on this particular voyage, Glenn has good reason to be more vigilant. His 11-year-old daughter, Ruby, is one of the crew. Glenn would never put Ruby in a situation beyond her capabilities,

and the last few days sailing have shown that his daughter can more than handle herself at sea. And so Glenn fires up the engine and steers the yacht out of the harbour. As a dad, he tries to strike a balance between emboldening Ruby to be adventurous and providing a voice of caution. It's a line that he's had to learn to walk in his own life. I guess I have, what you'd probably describe as an adventurous spirit, someone that really wants to live their life and take risks and have adventures. And, you know, sometimes those risks pay off and sometimes they don't.

Glenn grew up in a suburb of Perth in Western Australia, where he spent a happy childhood surfing and sailing. At 18, he went to university to study sports science with ambitions of becoming a PE teacher. But his social life quickly took precedence over his academics, and he dropped out of university after a couple of years. I kind of fell into a bit of a social pattern, let's say, and my university studies weren't exactly going well because I was kind of out partying and enjoying being 18 and 19. and yeah probably when I reflect back I probably wasn't ready for more study at that time after dropping out of university Glenn decided to join the Western Australian Police Academy and graduated as an officer at the age of 20

there were aspects of the job that suited Glenn but after a few years in the force the cons began to outweigh the pros it was taking a toll on me psychologically because it was a very negative atmosphere in the job like you can imagine you're dealing with a lot of people in difficult situations and at low points in their life, and it's often a very thankless job. I saw more so in other older officers that have been around and that were jaded and angry and sick of the job, and I made sure I was like, I do not want to kind of end up like that down the track. Glenn quit the police force, went back to university and retrained as a teacher, only to go on

to start a landscaping business. Around this time, Glenn met and married Ruby's mom. They moved to the town of Margaret River, a beach resort three hours south of Perth. The marriage didn't last, but the pair remained on good terms. After the divorce Glenn settled in the nearby town of Bustleton, where, after yet another pivot, he took a teaching job at the local high school. Throughout Glenn's various life and career changes, one thing has remained constant, his passion for being on the ocean. He goes sailing as often as he can.

usually gliding around Bustleton Harbour in his 11-meter yacht Impala 2. But what he loves more than anything is taking his boat up the coast to Ningaloo, a stretch of shoreline in Australia's far northwest, famed for its clear tropical waters and dazzling marine life. You're on the Ningaloo Reef, which is one of the most amazing reef systems in the world. And there's whale sharks, humpback whales, dugong, turtles, manta rays, beautiful coral like anything you could possibly want to be around as an ocean person is up there. So it's a really special place for me. And that's where we were going to go again in 21. A few months ago, Glenn asked Ruby if she fancied making the 750-mile voyage up the coast with him to Ningaloo.

The father-daughter-pair have made several shorter trips in the past, and Ruby has shown enough desire and aptitude to suggest that she is ready for something a bit more ambitious. I was obviously going to take Ruby with me this time. She was 11. old and I'd gotten a hesitant approval from her mother. Her mother and I had previously separated but we're still on really good terms and she was supportive of letting the kids have holidays and adventures and wasn't looking to deny them experiences. After getting approval from his ex-wife, Glenn welcomed Ruby into the crew. Alongside father and daughter is a guy called Dane, a 32-year-old sailor friend of Glens. A few days ago, the three of them set sail from Bustleton.

before picking up two additional crew members in Perth, a pair of young women who responded enthusiastically to an ad Glenn posted on Facebook. Last but not least, there is Banja, Ruby's nine-month-old puppy who has come along for the ride. It's a motley crew spanning a broad spectrum of age and experience. But on a straightforward voyage like this, they can afford to have a few novices on board. They won't be straying too far from the coastline, maintaining visual contact with land, for most of the journey. Barring something completely unexpected, they'll be at Ningaloo in a couple of weeks time diving the beautiful coral reef. It's the

middle of the night, about six hours after the Impala II left Rotnest Island. As forecasted, the wind has increased throughout the night. All around the 40-foot yacht, the dark ocean seethed with snarling white caps and big thundering breakers. The air on deck is filled with lashing spray, and the furious flapping of sails. The crew takes it in turn to go and watch, grabbing snatches of sleep when they can. But the incessant lurching makes it hard to get any decent rest.

Seasickness has descended, and the sound of the crew's retching and heaving underscores the relentless pounding of the waves. I tried to eat something and then vomited it back up again. Ruby hadn't eaten anything. and I was trying to encourage her to drink water but she was just kind of saying if I drink it, I'm going to throw it up. So yeah, we're all kind of low on food and low on energy

by the time the morning came around. At one stage during the night, Glenn notices that the dinghy, which had been attached to the stern, has disappeared, presumably ripped off by the force of the waves. I came up for my watch rotation and it was gone and the person that was on watch hadn't seen it go. So we weren't quite sure how long it had been gone for. We turned the boat around and went back to try and see if we could find it back at night with swell and darkness.

It's pretty hard to find a like a 10-foot dingy bobbing around in the ocean. The Impala too slogs on. Eventually dawn appears through cracks in the night sky. The darkness lifts around the yacht, heralding a welcome end to a miserable night. but there's no let up from the rough conditions. The grey sea undulates ahead of them in a rolling expanse of heavy swell, its surface veined with tendrils of white foam. Glenn looks around at the weather-beaten faces of his crew.

As we approached Durian Bay, given regard to the sea sickness that was on board, trying to increase the comfort of the crew, basically. I decided that we could pull into Durian Bay and sail through the bay rather than outside the reef and then kind of sail around the bay to the other side, around a sandy cape. It just meant that we'd be out of the swell a bit more and hopefully it would be even more comfortable. Ruby in particular looks like she needs a break.

After a night without any food or water, the 11-year-old's face is pallid and drawn. For the benefit of everyone, Glenn plans a change of course. Conditions should be calmer in Durian Bay, a wide, curved, inlet just beyond a scattering of islands to the east of their current course. Sailing through the relative calmness of the bay will allow them all to recover their sea legs. Decision made. Glenn turns the wheel and steers the yacht through a passage between two of the small islands. It's about 20 minutes later.

Glenn grips the wheel as the yacht forges on through the passage. The ocean remains a confusion of waves charging in different directions. Some sweep towards land, while others careen westward, borne along by the powerful undertow. The result is messy, foamy, and jagged. Waves smashing into each other, sending up plumes of whitewater. These are dicey conditions, but nothing that an experienced skipper like Glenn can't handle. There'd been nothing ahead of where we were sailing that had caused me any concern. I'd been, you know, looking for a good 10, 15 minutes to, like, down this passage.

and hadn't seen any waves or anything that had really kind of made me think, oh, this is not the right place to be. The yacht plows forward, jerkily pitching and swaying through the muddled seas. Glenn keeps his eyes fixed ahead. Visibility is poor. The spray off the ocean mingles with a low-lying mist, creating an opaque screen of grey. He has to use all his senses to navigate, hearing and feeling his way through the passage. Ruby sits beside him in the cockpit, shuddering with nausea, life jacket zipped to her chin. Glenn glances down to make sure she's all right, which is when he hears it.

All of a sudden I heard a noise, a noise of a wave breaking, just off to our court side. And I looked in probably 50 metres away, there was a wave which I would say would have been about 15 feet high. A freak wave, dwarfing those around it. In the seconds before impact, Glenn has time to take in the size of this immense wall of water hurtling from the mist. I turned the boat to go with the wave, which in hindsight probably wasn't the best call. I don't like it said, no, there's a lot of time to think about it. As Glenn turns the wheel, the yacht is swept up like a scrap of flotson, lifted and tossed sideways as it's broadsided by the behemoth. In the cockpit, the wave hits with the impact of a detonation.

bomb. Glenn and Ruby are engulfed by the blast. This wave just kind of picked up the boat and water filled the entire cockpit and the boat was slammed down onto its side, mast into the water, and Ruby and I were thrown out of the cockpit into the water by that wave. For a moment, Glenn is helpless. Like a rag doll, the force of the water pulls his his limbs in different directions, tumbling him in the agitated surf. Water thunders in his ears as his mouth and nose fill with brine. A second later, the chaos of the initial impact subsides enough for him to push his head above the surface, gasping and spluttering. Looking around for Ruby, he spots the flash of a red life jacket and then his daughter's face, her eyes wide with terror.

Glenn grabs her and pulls her into him. Then he turns his head in the direction of the boat. It's already some distance away, toppled on its side, rising and falling with a swell. Glenn grits his teeth and starts to kick. We were trying to swim towards them, but the boat was drifting further down wind from us. They're drifting faster than we could swim.

It's about midday on Sunday, May the 30th, 2021. In the Indian Ocean of the West Coast of Australia, Glenn Anderson and his 11-year-old daughter Ruby are two tiny heads bobbing in the granite gray swell. With frantic, labored strokes, father and daughter pulled themselves through the water, back in the direction of their boat. But the distance between them and the vessel is getting wider every second. Glenn lifts his head above the churning surf. Through the spray, he can just make out the shapes of the other three on board, all of whom were below deck when the wave hit. The yacht must have righted itself after the knockdown

and surely the crew must have realised by now that Glenn and Rubia are in the water. They'll soon come back for them. But as Glenn watches his yacht rise and fall with the motion of the sea, he spots another monstrous wave rolling. And then, yeah, I saw the next wave hit the boat. Crew was all up on deck by this point. A similar size wave to what had hit us first, came through,

knock the boat down again. They all managed to hold on to the boat somehow and then the boat righted itself again, but by that point it had taken on too much water and it just started sinking. Glenn can only watch in dismay as his beloved boat's sleek white hull drops below the waterline. Before slipping beneath the waves, the three crew members on board fasten their life jackets and hurl themselves into the ocean. Within seconds, all that remains are, of the Impala too is the tip of her 40-foot mast, and then she's gone, swallowed by the sea. Glenn and Ruby struggle over to where the other three are bobbing amid the debris of the sunk boat.

But there is one member of the crew missing. So we got together and I can't remember who asked it, but someone said, where's banjo? And Wic kind of called his name out a couple of times. They scour the murky, debris-filled water, praying to count. sight of the little dog, but there's no sign. And I just said, look, he's gone. He's not going to make this. We just have to let that go.

And that's the only time that Ruby cried, I think, during the whole day, through everything that happened. Yeah, when she realized danger was gone, she burst into tears. And I said, there's nothing we can do about that right now. We need to just focus on getting ourselves through this. and that was the last we ever saw of him. However painful, now is not the time to mourn. The remaining crew members find themselves in an incredibly dangerous position.

One, they must start taking immediate steps to resolve. There's the five of us floating in the middle of the ocean. No boat, debris everywhere. And then it was kind of time to make a plan. First things first, they assess their injuries. Fortunately, nobody seems to have sustained anything critical, beyond a few cuts and bruises. Dane suspects he might have broken a rib. For his part, Glenn has suffered a nasty gash to his forehead.

Blood runs down his face in crimson ribbons. Then Ruby's voice pipes up, barely audible beneath the waves. Ruby had said to me, Dad, my legs really sore. And I kind of said, can you lift it up so I can see? and immediately when she lets her doubt of the water I could tell that she had a broken leg it was just flopping about. Ruby's shin has cracked in two,

splintered by the impact against the side of the boat. Glenn looks at his daughter, who is visibly fighting to ignore the volleys of pain that must surely be firing through her limb. I remember saying to her, you've definitely got a broken leg, but there's nothing I can do about it for you right now. you're just going to have to hang in there and we need to get us out of this situation first

and then we can deal with that. And then she took that on and she went, yep, I understand. And, you know, you can tell she was in pain the whole time, but she never once complained about it after that. And I thought that was really, really brave her to be able to do that. Her 11-year-old girl was just blown away by her staunchness, I guess. Having established the extent of Ruby's injuries, the need to reach safety is even more urgent.

Glenn looks around. He reckons there are probably about four kilometers from the mainland, about two and a half miles, but separated from shore by a shallow reef. Swimming over it will risk being dashed against sharp rock. Then, just above the crest of the swell, Glenn catches a glimpse of an island, a flat, rocky protrusion, barely shading their horizon.

It is their best hope. Before they set off swimming for the island, the shipwrecked sailors activate their E-Purb beacon. This essential piece of kit sends out a distress signal via satellite. If it works as it should, it will transmit alerts to all search and rescue authorities in the area. Dane straps the E-Purb to his person for safekeeping. Then the five of them start to swim. Given Ruby's condition, Glenn has to hold his daughter with one arm and paddle with the other. From the debris, he has managed to grab a wooden ore, which the 11-year-old now grips for some extra buoyancy.

He's also found a single diving flipper, which helps as he kicks. Even so, in the vicious conditions, it's hard to make progress. It isn't long before Glenn and Ruby have fallen well behind the others. With me having to tow Ruby, I couldn't really keep up with the way the other crew were swimming. So we kind of came together and spread apart. We came together and spread apart a couple of times just because the sea was so chaotic as well. Glenn lifts his head.

The other three are barely visible now. Tiny specks of red against the dark ocean. There's no use trying to catch up. The distance is too great. The current's too powerful. Time for a change of plan. Glenn glances to his right. There is only one option.

He and Ruby are going to have to swim across the reef and into the bay where the current will be less strong. From there, they'll have to swim directly for the mainland. Grimmising, Glenn turns his body and with one arm tight around Ruby's chest begins swimming towards the reef. The sea here is even rougher as the waves break against the shallow rock churning the water into a deadly whirlpool. There's a couple of times that a big breaking wave was coming over,

and I'd say to Ruby, okay, ready for a breath hold, right? A hold breath now and we've done kind of the wave and let it pass over, let it roll us, and then we pop up the other side and then repeated that a few times until we were through the part where the waves were breaking on the reef. Eventually Glenn and Ruby make it across the reef and into the slightly calmer waters of the bay. They're through the most dangerous stretch, but getting past the reef was a sprint. now they have a marathon ahead of them, a long arduous swim to shore. Plus, crossing the reef has sealed their separation from the others, and more importantly,

from the EPUB. Without the satellite beacon, the father and daughter are truly on their own. So, Ruby and I were separated from the rest of the crew, without a beacon, without any way of anyone knowing exactly where we were. So yeah, from that point on, my mindset was just, I'm just going to keep swimming. It's about an hour later. Glenn's muscles burn as he toes his daughter's weakened body through the waves, kicking his legs with as much power as he can muster.

Ruby shivers violently in his arms, her teeth chattering. Glenn is a strong swimmer, but this awkward way of moving through the water with one arm around Ruby's chest is testing his abilities. No sooner has he found a rhythm, then the acid buildup becomes too painful, and he has to readjust grip. So if I've got tired in one position, I would change to another position, try a different type of kick or a different heart of stroke, and just wanted to keep making progress. Every feeble kick, every limp, laboured stroke, they gain a modicum of distance, an inch here, an inch there, closing the gap to the shore one minuscule increment at a time. But as time ebbs away, so too does Glenn's energy. And physical exhaustion isn't the only danger here.

Blood still oozes from the cut in Glenn's forehead, slicking the surface of the sea around them. Surely, it's only a matter of time before the blood attracts those hungry predators for which Australia's coastal waters are notorious. But right now, that doesn't bear thinking about. I just didn't allow that thought to enter my head. because it just wouldn't have been helpful at all. I don't remember ever once thinking, oh, what if their sharks or the shark's going to be attracted to my blood or anything like that? I was just totally locked in on keeping Ruby's head above water

and trying to get us to the shore or get us rescued. On they go. Glenn periodically looks up to see how much further to shore. But there remains a yawning chasm between them and the land. He grits his teeth and keeps. keeps going. Another hour passes. At some point a rescue plane flies low over the bay. It doesn't seem to spot Glenn and Ruby, but its presence lifts morale. It suggests the EPUB has done its job in alerting the authorities to their plight. Maybe the others have already been rescued.

As soon as a sort of a jet coming over, that gave us such a boost, knowing that, okay, so they know we're here at least, that people know that we need help and help is here. And I said to her, look, they're here for us. Like, they've come to help us. They'll see us, don't worry. And there'll be a boat come and pick us up soon. So that was the best case scenario. So that's what I presented to Ruby at the time.

As they swim, Glenn spots boats in the distance, chugging out across the bay. He tries calling for help, but his voice is drowned out by the crashing waves. Judging by the direction the vessels are heading, it seems there would be rescuers think that father and daughter are on the other side. of the reef, not here in the bay. Glenn has no way of alerting them to their mistake. It is an added torment to know that rescue is both close at hand and impossibly out of reach. Meanwhile, Ruby is beginning to feel ice cold in Glenn's arms. I just kept saying to her, look, either we're going to get picked up or we're going to swim to shore. So either way, we're going to be fine. You just have to hang in there, stay with me.

Glenn whispers encouragement into Ruby's ears. But after nearly four hours submerged in cold water, it seems increasingly likely that his daughter is becoming hypothermic. Through various trainings and jobs that I've had, I'm well aware of the symptoms of hypothermia as well. So I was kind of watching her progress through that and knowing that she hadn't really eaten or drunk much for the last 24 hours.

So I mean she wouldn't have a lot of energy reserves. to help get through a situation like that. As Ruby's violent shivers fade to feeble trembles, Glenn digs deep, trying to summon an extra reserve of energy. But even as he does, it isn't clear if this is the right strategy. What if all this struggling is simply wasting his strength and putting both himself and Ruby at even greater risk? I was wondering if it was smart of me to keep using my energy

to keep kicking or whether I would be better off to just float and try and conserve warmth and conserve energy. But that was only kind of momentary. It was just like a consideration. And then I was always just like, no, just keep kicking, just keep going. Ultimately, something propels Glenn forward. Part human instinct to have his feet on solid ground. Part's paternal imperative to get his daughter the medical help she needs.

We were starting to get to a point where I knew that we needed to be out of the water soon, sooner rather than later, definitely. But we were getting closer to shore all the time. So that kept me buoyant that I knew we were making progress. I could tell that we were getting closer. And so I just needed to keep going. Another hour has gone by. Glenn concentrates on maintaining temper, corraling his fatigued limbs into a steady rhythm of kicks and strokes.

When Ruby slumps in his arms, he hoists her up, keeping her face from slipping under. The salt water stings his... his eyes and coats the inside of his mouth. He is desperately thirsty. But this is the final straight, one last 200-meter dash to the finish. The sandy beach nears. Close enough now for Glenn to make out the scrubby dunes beyond. But his muscles feel like anchors, like sandbags attached to his bones, offering nothing but dead weight. It would be a desperately cruel fate to get this close, only to drown in shallow water. But then, Glenn hears the boat.

The fisheries boat came over straight towards us with the light and siren going, and it was such a moment of relief to see them coming towards us and knowing that they were actually coming to us and not going to go past and not see us like so many boats had done during the day. The boat chugs up to where Glenn and Ruby are treading water, the kindly face of a sea rescue volunteer appearing over the vessel's side. And the first thing he said to me was, you almost made it, mate. Like, just classic, like, Aussie-kema thing to say, like, after the four and a half hours, I'd been in the water.

And I said, yeah, mate, you're taking away my glory. What are you doing? And then, yeah, he kind of jokes aside, let's get everyone on the boat and pull us up. Glenn pushes Ruby up into the rescuers' outstretched arms. Then he climbs up after her and collapses onto the deck of the boat. Almost immediately, the emotion that he's been keeping at bay surges to the surface. It wasn't until that point where I'd got on the boat and got to process that we were, we were, okay, we were.

Rescue with Ruby was going to get the medical help she needed, that I had just this emotional release and, yeah, just break down on their boat as we were going back to the harbor. But it was just such a combination of just relief for that. That situation had been over. The new Ruby was in good hands. And that we were going to be okay. It's a few hours later. After being picked up by sea rescue,

Glenn and Ruby were promptly airlifted and flown to hospital in Perth. Upon arrival in the emergency room, medical staff checked their vital signs and took blood tests. As well as her broken leg, Ruby was indeed suffering the effects of hypothermia. Fortunately, no lasting damage was done.

Doctors inform Glenn, but he is displaying symptoms of starvation. Such was the toll that the four-hour swim took on his body. They also learn about the fate of the others. Apparently Dane and the two other crewmates were picked up by sea rescue two hours before Ruby and Glenn were found. The rescuers hadn't anticipated that I would try and swim to shore. They were looking in the area where the debris from the boat was floating and kind of near where my other crewmates had been rescued.

So they assumed that I'd be in a similar kind of area, whereas I'd been frantically kicking myself mostly towards the shore. Ironically, they might have been rescued sooner, but they stayed put. But then maybe the exertion helped stave off the worst effects of hypothermia. There's ultimately no way of knowing, and no point dwelling on what-ifs. All that matters is that they're safe. After leaving hospital, Glenn and Ruby return home to Bustleton.

Life returns to normal, except in many small ways it doesn't. For Glenn, the afterglow of survival, casts everything in a new light. I remember my partner at the time asked me if I needed anything from the shops, and I was like, no, I think I'm good. She's like, you're amazing, you've just lost pretty much everything you own and you just don't feel like you don't need anything. And I'm like, I'm alive. Like, at that point in time, that was just, that was enough.

That was more than enough. That was amazing. But when the immediate glow of relief fades, Glenn must grapple with the negative fallout of the accident. As the months pass, a dark cloud of guilt forms over him. It all kind of came back to that accident and anything else that went wrong. I was like, oh, another mistake by me, another mistake by me. And I was getting in a little bit of a...

I had days where I was just inconsolable in that. And that's when I kind of had to really... struggle to get back to being in what is and, you know, kind of just get and take me a moment by moment. But with time, Glenn manages to silence his demons. He buys a new yacht with his insurance money and is soon back out on the water. Some might have decided to quit sailing after what happened, but Glenn says he refuses to let the accident ruin the thing that has brought him so much joy over the years. To quit sailing at that point, I think it would have been the worst thing that I could be.

possibly have done. And also I kind of wanted to set an example for my kids. If you come up against a hardship and it's something that you really want, then to, you know, push on and continue and learn the lessons, learn from your mistakes, but you only fail when you quit kind of mentality. Year after the accident, Glenn assembles another crew and completes the voyage to Ningeloo that he set out on the previous May. As they sail through the Juryan Bay, close to the spot where they capsized the year before, they're greeted by a pod of dolphins leaping from the water. I just felt so blown away. That was my next experience of Juryan Bay after the previous one.

And it almost felt like I'm not really, I don't know, into science from the universe or anything like that. But it was just such a beautiful moment to have those dolphins come out and meet me in and it made me feel welcome in a place that had caused me a bit of a pain from the previous year and a bit of suffering. So yeah, I kind of felt like I was really back on the horse after that and felt a whole lot better. And I was so happy that I'd done it. And the rest of the trip was just amazing that year as well. Like I just had the best trip up the coast and just reaffirmed that, I guess, carrying on and getting the new boat and carrying on with my adventures was the right call.

Because I just think if I hadn't, then I would just wallow in that. If that was the last thing I did in sailing was sink that boat, then I just wouldn't have ever kind of got. past it. Like it would have just been something that hung in the back of my mind for the rest of my life. So yeah, to get back on the horse, the bucktie kind of thing and go and do that trip was super important for me, I think. As for Ruby, her next time on the water came six months after the accident. Undeterred by her frightening ordeal, she enthusiastically agreed to join her dad on a short sailing trip off the coast near Bustleton. He made sure to regularly check up on her

to ensure she felt confident enough to carry on. And to Glenn's immense pride, his daughter's reply was always the same. Part way through, I said to her, how are you feeling? And she was feeling a seasick. There was a bit of swell around and a bit of wind. And she said, apart from feeling a bit seasick, I feel safe and comfortable. And that, for her to say that she felt safe again, that absolutely blew my mind. And even when I think about that moment now, it brings tears my eyes because I was so blown away, you know, that she was okay with that.

And it just meant so much to me that she would put her trust in me again after what had happened and didn't hold that against me. And yeah, they just meant the world to hear those words out of her mouth at that point in time. Next time on real survival stories, can someone, quite literally, come back from the dead? On a winter's evening in New Hampshire in 2011, David Dwyer is at home in his study when he notices that his wife Kelly hasn't come back from her walk in the woods. Concerned, he straps on his snow shoes, grabs his torch and heads out to look for her. But the situation is more terrible than he can know, because Kelly isn't merely lost. She has been in an awful accident.

She has fallen through the ice into freezing cold water, barely clean. clinging onto life, submerged up to her neck. As Kelly slipped into a hypothermic stupor and her heart slows to a standstill, David will have to perform heroics to reach her in time. How will he get her out without risking his own life too? And what will be the consequences of Kelly's hours spent trapped beneath the ice? That's next time on real survival stories.

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