The World's Largest Rubber Duck Has Been Rescued After Drifting Into International Waters

It began as a publicity stunt for the Baltimore Harbor Splash festival: a six-story-tall inflatable rubber duck, named Daphne, tethered to a floating dock near the National Aquarium. It ended as a high-seas maritime drama involving three Coast Guard cutters, a civilian fishing trawler, and a duck that seemed determined to reach Europe.

On the morning of November 15, a sudden squall with 50-mile-per-hour winds snapped Daphne's mooring lines. The 1,800-pound duck, deflated slightly by a small tear in its left wing, began drifting down the Patapsco River toward the Chesapeake Bay. A festival worker noticed the duck moving and radioed for help, but by the time a harbor patrol boat arrived, Daphne was already past the Francis Scott Key Bridge.

"We could not believe what we were seeing," said Coast Guard Petty Officer Maria Flores, who was aboard the first response vessel. "A rubber duck the size of a house, just sailing away. Not sinking. Not deflating. Just... leaving. It looked like a dream. A very weird dream."

The Coast Guard initially attempted to lasso the duck's remaining tow loops, but the wind made precision maneuvering impossible. Daphne entered the Chesapeake Bay at 3:12 PM, now drifting at 8 knots. By nightfall, she had passed Annapolis. By dawn, she was off the mouth of the Potomac River, heading southeast into the Atlantic.

"We had a decision to make," said Captain James Hollister, who commanded the Coast Guard response. "Daphne was not a navigation hazard—her radar signature was large enough for ships to see her from miles away. She was not leaking fuel or carrying hazardous materials. She was just a giant duck. Legally, we had no obligation to retrieve her. But morally? You cannot let a duck drift to Europe. That would be an international incident."

The Coast Guard dispatched the cutter Vigorous, a 210-foot Reliance-class cutter, to intercept Daphne approximately 40 miles east of Ocean City, Maryland. By then, the duck had been joined by a small flotilla of civilian boats—fishermen, recreational sailors, and at least one jetski—who had heard about the escape on social media and wanted to see the duck.

"It was chaos," said charter boat captain Mike Zaleski, who brought his fishing party within 50 yards of Daphne. "My customers forgot about the tuna. They just wanted duck pictures. I told them to stay back, but one guy leaned over the bow with a selfie stick. If he had fallen in, I would have had to explain to the Coast Guard why I was rescuing a man from a duck. That is not a sentence I ever expected to say."

The Vigorous attempted to attach a tow line to Daphne's reinforced harness, but the duck's unpredictable motion—spinning slowly in the wind, dipping its beak into the waves—made the approach dangerous. A smaller Coast Guard response boat finally succeeded at 8:47 PM, after four failed attempts. The tow line was secured. Daphne was under control.

Then the tow line snapped.

"The duck just decided it was not done," Flores said. "It gave a big lurch, like a horse bucking, and the cleat ripped right out of the harness. We watched Daphne sail away into the darkness. I am not a superstitious person, but that duck wanted freedom. You could feel it."

The second pursuit lasted 14 hours. Daphne drifted into international waters, where the Coast Guard's jurisdiction becomes murky. The Vigorous continued the chase, now operating under a legal theory that the duck was abandoned property rather than a vessel, and abandoned property can be retrieved anywhere.

A civilian fishing trawler, the Lady Carolyn, volunteered to attempt a different approach. Instead of towing Daphne, the trawler's crew would try to push her using a custom-made inflatable bumper—essentially a giant pool noodle strapped to the trawler's bow. At 6:32 AM on November 17, the Lady Carolyn made contact. The pool noodle compressed against Daphne's vinyl skin. The duck rotated slowly, then straightened. The trawler pushed the duck at 5 knots toward the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay.

A Coast Guard cutter took over the push at the bay entrance, and by 2 PM, Daphne was back in Baltimore harbor, deflated, subdued, and looking slightly embarrassed. Festival organizers have announced that Daphne will be retired from public display and converted into a land-based art installation at the Baltimore Museum of Industry.

"Daphne has tasted freedom," said festival spokesperson Elena Reeves. "She cannot go back to being a tethered attraction. She has earned her retirement. We are building her a permanent home where she can look at the water but never have to sail on it again."

When asked whether the duck had somehow become sentient during its voyage, Reeves laughed. "No," she said. "She is an inflatable. She is vinyl and hot air. But she has a story now. That is more than most ducks have. That is more than most people have."