This is a portion of a post on the inboard site by Kevin Braun, crew chief of the UL-5 team:
After investigating Kevin's crash a week ago,
talking to Kevin and the diver who rescued him. We
have concluded that, what caused him not to have air
when the boat flipped was, the hose coupling that
connects to the piece of hose from his mask came
uncoupled.
He did not have a scratch on him other than him
pulling the mask to get one last breath of air before
the capsule fulled with water.
Kevin Braun
UL-5 crew chief
....And this was from Kevin Aylesworth:
The rest of the story.
This is to help clear-up any misunderstanding as to what I went through
during this accident.
On Saturday, both vertical wings were nearly destroyed during Heat 2A when
another boat run ran over the top of the UL-5. After working all night, the
crew repaired one wing. Before attaching it, we tested Sunday morning with
no wings and found the boat handled good in the straightaways but not as
smooth in the turns.
Discussions took place and based on past experience with other boats, it was
determined it would be better to run one wing than none. The repaired right
wing was installed before the B-Main.
During the warm-up period for the B-Main the boat seemed to turn better. We
fought for Lane 3, nailed the start, and were cruising up the back
straightaway with Greg Hopp in the UL-1. The boat felt steady on the water
and I was running our front wing in the neutral position.
As the boat speed increased, the boat drifted to the right (outside), away
from Greg, and started lifting the left (inside) sponson just before the
turn. For those of you who have watched our boat run before, the right
sponson - which is much lighter - always lifts first. At this point, I put
the front wing in the full upright position to bring the boat back down, but
the boat did not react.
I realized things had gone from bad to worse when the boat continued to
climb and inverted. I was completely upside down and heading backward when I
looked to my left at Greg. I tucked my knees up into my chest, covered my
face and air mask with my palms and gripped my helmet visor. The UL-5
continued to rotate, spun on its side, and finally pancaked into the water
capsule- and sponson-first. The impact with the water immediately crushed
the air vent in the front of the boat and water blasted into the cockpit.
After the boat settled in the water, I was completely alert and aware of
what had just happened. (I attribute a clear state-of-mind and wherewithal
to four capsule training sessions.) Because my mask was still on my face, I
went to take a breath of air. There was no air to breath.
At this point, only a small pocket of air remained in the capsule, so I
removed one side of the mask and inhaled half air and half saltwater. I had
enough strength to remove my seatbelts and attempt to reach for the trap
door under my feet. It was very dark.
I was unable to get to the trap door because I was upside down and my
previously tucked legs were falling toward the lid of the capsule. At this
point I had run out of oxygen, so I had to take another breath. With no air
left in the cockpit, I inhaled a gulp of saltwater. It took nearly all my
strength to open the capsule door.
The last I remember, my feet, legs and hips were hanging out of the cockpit
and my hands were on the lip of the capsule pushing my body out. I blacked
out after that.
Thankfully, the rescue team got to me when my orange helmet surfaced and
banged against the left sponson of the UL-5. They report I was floating face
down and unconscious, and when the divers turned me over I was frothing at
the mouth. There was a little blood - presumably from a scratch under my
nose. They put me on a beat-up yellow board in the water, and lifted me
into the rescue boat.
I have brief memories of being wheeled up the dock, moving my hands on the
stretcher, being loaded into the helicopter, and arriving at the trauma
unit. The ER doctors sedated me and put me on the ventilator within minutes
of arriving due to lack of oxygen and heart trauma. They put tubes through
my mouth and down my throat to pump out the Mission Bay saltwater. I was
hooked up to an IV with antibiotics to ward off infection from the
inevitable bacteria I'd inhaled.
I was on the ventilator from Sunday through Wednesday. When I left the
hospital on Thursday, I had 20-percent of my lungs and heart working. The
doctor ordered bed rest for 3-4 weeks and rehabilitation for 6-12 months.
Each day seems a little better than the last.
These are the facts in which I know happened. I hope this clarifies any
questions that you may have.
As a result of this accident, APBA is now looking at permitting a different fitting for the air supply. The current Parker fitting, SH-62, has a sleeve that's retracted to release it, similar to a typical shop air hose fitting. Over time they become quite loose and easily disconnected with slight pressure. In the Aylesworth accident, it is suspected that the fitting snagged the bottom if the instrument pannel, causing it to release. The new fitting that is being considered is the SH-62-SL, which is the sleeve lock version. The SL requires the sleeve to be rotated 90 degrees before it can be retracted.