- A terrifying boat propeller accident left Nichole with life threatening injuries, to save her life doctors were forced to amputate
- Nichole’s heart stopped twice during life-saving surgery and she spent more than seven weeks recovering in hospital
- Almost two and a half years on, Nichole is back on the water, volunteering with trauma survivors and helping other amputees
Here Nichole Hall, 31, tells her story in her own words
Plunging my paddle through the crystal clear water, I smiled.
What an incredible turnout, I thought.
It was April 2024, and boating enthusiasts had come to an estuary for an annual party on the water.
This year, we were raising funds in honour of two close friends who’d been involved in a horrifying incident.
Marylou Sharp, 80, and her boyfriend Ray ‘Butch’ Gay, had been at a restaurant in town a week earlier, when a drunk driver ploughed through the tables in his Nissan Maxima, killing Marylou and injuring four others, including Ray.
The driver, Cody James Curtis, was later jailed for 24 years.
Now, I was kayaking from boat to boat, taking donations to help the couple’s families cover expenses arising from the terrible tragedy.
After four hours on the water, I met my boyfriend Jordan, then 30, and two friends, aboard our 21ft catamaran to set off home.
One minute I was listening to music and chatting as we cruised at 24km/h across the water.
The next… Bang!
Something struck our vessel and suddenly I was ejected overboard like a rag doll.
Splashing into shallow water, I gasped for air as saltwater stung my eyes.
READ MORE: ‘A Propeller Sliced Through My Girl’s Skull’
Instinctively I pushed down on my legs to find the sand below, but only my right leg touched the bottom.
What the…?
My left leg felt like a flag on a pole, blowing with the current of the waves.
Peering down, I saw the water clouded red with blood. Then I realised…
My left leg was shredded to the bone.
I’ve been sliced open by the propeller, I gasped.
My favourite blue cossie and butchered flesh were hanging by threads.
‘HELP! MY LEG!’ I yelled, distraught.
Within seconds, Jordan, who’d been driving, was at my side scooping me into his arms, while our friends helped lift me onto the boat.
While Jordan raced us to shore, our friends called an ambulance to meet us, and used towels to apply pressure to my wounds.
But my flesh was torn open from ankle to hip. Skin hanging from the bone, there was nowhere to place a tourniquet.
I was losing a lot of blood, and quickly.
READ MORE: ‘Boat horror: ‘The blades chewed through my leg’’
By the time we got to the waiting paramedics at a marina 10 minutes later, my strength was ebbing.
‘Am I going to die?’ I asked, terrified.
‘You’re going to be fine,’ an ambo soothed, placing his gloved hand in mine.
I only learned afterwards that those heroic paramedics had pinched my severed artery shut to stop me from bleeding to death then and there.
With one last kiss from Jordan, I was airlifted the 30km to hospital by helicopter, while he followed by car.
Rushed into theatre, I had life-saving surgery to cleanse my wounds and stitch back together the pieces that could be fixed.
The sharp propeller blades had left my left leg mulched, and I had two 25cm slices on my upper right thigh and another between my legs.
I needed 136 units of blood, and antibiotics to fight infection.
Emerging from surgery, my ordeal wasn’t over.
Two days later my dad, Scott, then 57, was at my bedside sharing devastating news.
‘They’re going to take your leg,’ he said gently.
The damage to my left limb was just too severe to save it.
READ MORE: ‘A blood clot saved my life!’
Trying to be strong, and still intubated, I raised my hand and gave Dad the ‘rock on’ sign.
I can do this, I vowed.
Back in theatre, surgeons amputated my limb, as well as part of my pelvis and hip, fitting me with a colostomy bag to remove my bodily waste.
Thankfully, cuts to my vulva were only superficial, and my groin injuries won’t impact my ability to have children in future if I choose to.
Coming to in recovery 14 hours later, Jordan, Dad and my mum Angela, then 53, were there.
‘Thank God you’re alive,’ they chorused.
They’d been told to say their goodbyes by doctors, who feared I wouldn’t survive the night.
‘I never doubted you for a second,’ Jordan said, squeezing my hand.
I was still intubated and heavily medicated, so he handed me a whiteboard and marker to communicate with.
‘I saw God twice,’ I wrote, recalling the field of stars I’d seen during surgery.
‘It’s going to be really hard, but I’m going to be with you,’ God’s voice said when I chose to return to my family.
I learned later my heart stopped beating twice on the operating table.
It’s a miracle I survived, I realised.
In June 2024, after more than seven weeks in hospital, I was discharged in a wheelchair.
Back home, I focused on healing with the help of a physical therapist.
Living in a single-level house, I used crutches to get around on my own.
My rock through it all, Jordan took time off work to care for me, and Mum helped too.
Two months later, I received a specially made prosthetic leg that is strapped around my waist, which I named ‘Peggy’.
Holding Jordan’s hands, I took my first wobbly steps a few days later.
That September, tears filled my eyes as I walked down the aisle as the maid of honour at my best friend’s wedding.
‘You’re a miracle,’ guests told me.
Six months after the accident, I had my colostomy reversed.
And in July this year, I was over the moon when Jordan proposed.
Of course I said yes!
Almost two and a half years have passed since that horrifying day, and I’m still in rehab, learning to master my prosthetic.
But having been given a second chance, I’m determined to make it count.
I’ve started volunteering at the hospital that saved my life, meeting with other trauma survivors and offering my experience and support.
I’m also working with the company that supplied my prosthetic, helping other amputees navigate life with theirs.
‘There’s a light at the end of the tunnel,’ I tell them.
I’m back kayaking, snorkelling and boating too, and I’m hoping to one day master snowboarding.
A boat propeller might have stolen my leg, but I won’t let it steal my life’s purpose.
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