Some sportfishing captains consider a fishing trip a nightmare when they spend hours on the water and get skunked. Capt. Jeremy Beller would call that a dream compared to the gun to his head, broken back, and the waterspout he encountered on his worst day on the water. About 12 years ago, Capt. Jeremy Beller was a young sportfishing captain eager to begin his career aboard a 70-foot Hatteras. While the first few trips went well, it soon became apparent the yacht had a fuel issue, so Beller got a quote to polish the tanks. The bill was massive, mainly due to the honeycomb-like fuel tank, which left growth and particulates to run rampant if missed in the tiny compartments. Beller proceeded with the polishing with a contractor prior to a two-week fishing trip to Marsh Harbor in the Bahamas. “The [contractor] said, ‘There’s probably still some stuff in there,’ and I was a young man, not as convincing as I am nowadays, and the owner said, ‘Let’s just go, man, we’ll be fine,’” Beller said. “Against my better judgment, we headed from Fort Lauderdale to the Abacos.” Just four hours into the trip, the generator shut down. While strange, there wasn’t time to sit and think — Beller headed down to turn on the backup and work on the main generator while the owner took control and circled tuna they just hooked. Then one main engine shut down. “Once that happens, I’m like, ‘Look, we need to go into shore,’ but at this point we can’t do anything other than troll. We’re doing like five knots, and there’s some weather that’s supposed to be coming in overnight,” Beller said. The owner suggested heading to Marsh Harbor — another 100 miles away — on one engine, but Beller convinced him to anchor by a reef to find out what was going on. While Beller began working in the engine room, the other engine died, closely followed by their last generator. “Now we have zero power, no engines, middle of nowhere, miles and miles from anything,” Beller said. Beller called the Royal Bahamas Defence Force (RBDF) to let them know they’re a dead ship. With more time on his hands, Beller relieved engine pressure by cracking a fuel filter. “It explodes in my hand and sends me back onto a pump,” Beller said. “I didn’t know at the time, but I had just fractured three vertebrae.” Covered in diesel, in pain, and now with dead batteries, Beller and company are left with no lights or pumps to face an incoming cold front expected to bring 40- to 50-knot winds. Beller is determined to work through the night, but is persuaded to sleep and wait until morning under one condition — someone stays on anchor watch. “I’m in bed and I hear this bang. I kind of wake up and I hear it again, but I felt it — we’re on the bottom,” Beller said. No one was on anchor watch. The owner and guests had fallen asleep, and the anchor chain broke. Water began pouring in through the shaft seals, but the yacht couldn’t sink further since it was already on the bottom. They immediately called RBDF and the U.S. Coast Guard, but were told a tow wasn’t possible due to inclement weather. In the meantime, the boat crunched against the bottom while slowly heading toward a cliff. “Oddly enough, one of these RBDF guys is talking in a grocery store and says, ‘Hey, did you hear about the 70 that’s aground,’” Beller said. A commercial fisherman heard the conversation, got into his shrimp boat, and headed towards the grounded yacht on a rescue mission. After more than three hours, the operation gets the vessel off the reef and tows it to a dock in South Abaco. “We’re in the engine room with these crash pumps, wading in water, when all of a sudden there’s this gust of wind and we get pushed up on the dock hard,” Beller said. “A waterspout had formed and proceeded to go right over us. I remember looking at the owner like, ‘Did you kill somebody? This is the worst luck I’ve ever seen.’” After stabilizing the vessel and arranging for the owner to fly home, Beller decided to relax for the night and have a drink with the commercial captain. At the bar, he could tell something was off. Instead of drinks, the other captain opted for hard drugs, becoming more neurotic with every line. As they left the bar, Beller asked how the fishing business was going. “He didn’t like my questions, and after a while, he pulled the car over, told me I was DEA (Drug Enforcement Administration), and put a gun to my head and said he was going to kill me,” Beller said. “I’m like, ‘Alright man, you could kill me, but you’re not getting that 30 grand [for the tow.]’” With money on the line, the captain lowered the gun and kicked Beller out of the car. Unfortunately, Beller had already planned for the same captain to tow the vessel to Freeport the next day. The captain didn’t show up until four days later, but he was Beller’s only option. After many broken tow lines and Beller’s back worsening, they arrived in Freeport. While Beller’s boss wanted him to stay for another month as the vessel was repaired, he demanded a flight back home and finally went to the hospital, where he was diagnosed with fractured vertebrae. “It was the worst week of my life, but in hindsight, the big takeaway from all of that is to not let these guys convince you otherwise,” Beller said. “No is no. We’re not yes men, we’re no men.”