Sailing your sailboat what were the worst conditions you’ve sailed in?
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We were sailing back to Portland from Boothbay Harbor. We were in our 1976 Pearson 28. The wind was blowing 25kts steady right on the nose. There was an overnight storm off shore that brought in 10-12 waves that were fairly steep and close together.
I motor sailed her to make some way upwind. I had to go up and over each wave a certain way to keep us moving and keep the boat from falling off the wave.
It took us most of the day and we were glad to be home but not once did the boat ever feel like it could not take it. We gained a lot of confidence in our boat that day.
I motor sailed her to make some way upwind. I had to go up and over each wave a certain way to keep us moving and keep the boat from falling off the wave.
It took us most of the day and we were glad to be home but not once did the boat ever feel like it could not take it. We gained a lot of confidence in our boat that day.
Apparent wind of 33 knots, AWA of 45, waves 9-11 reported with occasional waves that seemed 14'. The great thing about that experience is that it gave me a lot of confidence in my boat.
One thing to note: the fine print of many wave forecast will say that you may experience some waves up to twice the size of the forecast. I have never seen that happen but I guess it happens enough for them to put the fine print, so when they are predicting 15'ers, be very careful out there because twice that size is dangerous.
One thing to note: the fine print of many wave forecast will say that you may experience some waves up to twice the size of the forecast. I have never seen that happen but I guess it happens enough for them to put the fine print, so when they are predicting 15'ers, be very careful out there because twice that size is dangerous.
Several years ago three of us sailed back from Catalina in January. When we left Catalina in the early AM it was crystal clear, warm and no wind. After powering for more than an hour the wind began to rising and within an hour it was blowing 25+ knots on the nose. We had the full main and 150 genoa flying and were sailing at the 24' Windrose hull speed. Before we realized it the wind increased to 35+ knots and the seas were 25' plus with a top break of 4'. After that we began to see the Coast Guard helicopter rescueing boaters from 30+ power and sailboats. Before we sailed to Long Beach we had even larger seas and winds above 40 knots in a full blown Santa Anna wind storm. The boat took everything the weather could throw at it and us and arrived in Long Beach wet but no worse for wear. After that I realized that the boat, (even with a swing keel) could easily take as much or even more than us weak sailors.
Novelman
Novelman
just a coupla months ago on a friends boat in gulf of mexico was in many electrical storms with 50 kt winds inside for 3 days----until last day was intermittent the last day was damn near constant with lots of lightning---the sailing was excellent...the lightning was scary for me and kat....this was off coast of florida--neart appalachacola......worse at night than in daylight...but was a great sailing experience--just toooo much lightning......
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Mobile Bay; No wind instruments but NWS said 25kts and gusty. Mobile bay is shallow(12-15') so and about 30 miles long so you get a steep chop.Waves keeping the jib foot wet. I've been in higher waves maybe 15' but the chop in Mobile bay is the worst conditions that I've experiences. Give me taller longer waves anythime.
Gulf Stream Gale
Sailing back from Bermuda to New York. 50 knot gale in the gulf stream. 15-20 foot seas. Sailing on my dad's Bristol 40. Reefed main and heavy weather jib. Running before it and surfing down the waves. Time of my life!
Sailing back from Bermuda to New York. 50 knot gale in the gulf stream. 15-20 foot seas. Sailing on my dad's Bristol 40. Reefed main and heavy weather jib. Running before it and surfing down the waves. Time of my life!
Half Way between Tortolla and St. Maartin
On a chartered Moorings (Beneteau) 50 about 35 miles se of Tortolla about midnight we hit a group of squalls. Pitch black, couldn't see twenty feet, and pretty much horizonal rain in the squalls. We were close hauled on the port tack going se against the trade winds probably steady at about 15-20 kts but 30 or more in the squalls. We buried the lee rail and had solid water coming over the weather bow off and on for about half an hour even with a reef in the main. Couldn't see the waves except the white tops it was so dark but we were pounding so hard you had to hold on with both hands. Everyone in the crew got pretty beat up - bruises and bumps but no real injuries, and everyone was too scared to puke.
An hour later we were zooming along under a star filled sky and a crescent moon. Gotta love the Caribbean.
On a chartered Moorings (Beneteau) 50 about 35 miles se of Tortolla about midnight we hit a group of squalls. Pitch black, couldn't see twenty feet, and pretty much horizonal rain in the squalls. We were close hauled on the port tack going se against the trade winds probably steady at about 15-20 kts but 30 or more in the squalls. We buried the lee rail and had solid water coming over the weather bow off and on for about half an hour even with a reef in the main. Couldn't see the waves except the white tops it was so dark but we were pounding so hard you had to hold on with both hands. Everyone in the crew got pretty beat up - bruises and bumps but no real injuries, and everyone was too scared to puke.
An hour later we were zooming along under a star filled sky and a crescent moon. Gotta love the Caribbean.
About 10 years ago, had rounded Cape Hatteras and entered the Chesapeake Bay and started to go north up the bay. Wind was 25Kts from the E ... and it became VERY humid and very foggy about 10 miles from Cape Charles inside the bay. All of a sudden a large blue hole of clear sky opened above us, and became about 3-4 miles in diameter. At the edges of the blue hole the wind/water was being 'beaten into a froth' (a windwall). We crossed the windwall and got hit by 45-55kts gusting well into the 60s from the NE and the seastate became 8-10ft. of VERY steep and closely spaced chop. We decided for safety that we didnt want to enter any leeshore harbor is such a blow (no harbors on the Eastern VA shore), decided to keep moving due to the heavy commercial traffic in the lower bay. Triple reefed and staysl for 6-7 hours in high close reaching in 8-10 ft. very close spaced chop (tops being blown off - spume!) until we sailed out from under it (making about 2kts forward speed).
This was a 'weather bomb' that formed on top of us .... many boats that day were run up on lee shores and many rescues were performed. The boat handled it better than the crew who slept for 12 hours when we finally got into port further up the bay. If I had been closer the the mouth of the bay I would have / should have run out to sea and into deeper water so as not to take such a 'pounding'.
This was a 'weather bomb' that formed on top of us .... many boats that day were run up on lee shores and many rescues were performed. The boat handled it better than the crew who slept for 12 hours when we finally got into port further up the bay. If I had been closer the the mouth of the bay I would have / should have run out to sea and into deeper water so as not to take such a 'pounding'.
I believe it was in the early 1970s in the West Vancouver Yacht Club Strait of Georgia race at Easter. It was a big race with probably several hundred boats and our course was to go up to Welcome pass and then across the strait, down the east side of Vancouver Island, back across to the Frasier River buoy and then back to the finish line. At the dinner the night before the official weather forecaster said that he thought we'd have light airs--was concerned that we might not finish the race.
I was new to long distant racing and was way back in the crowd at the start. Some of my crew were angry with me for being so far back. But they changed their tune when we drifted across at the gun and led our class out into the strait while most of our competitors were frantically trying to sail back across the line to officially start. We were leading! A Ranger 29 was leading a bunch of hot shot racers.
As we headed toward the White Islets, the wind started to pick up and we had good sailing with most of the fleet behind us. As we made the turn toward the Vancouver Island side winds continue to pick up to about twenty five knots. I had made spaghetti sauce--heavy duty Italian style and it didn't want to stay on the stove nor did the water for the spaghetti. It was then I got sea sick trying to hold the two pots level on the stove.
Winds continued to build during the early evening and we abandoned the spaghetti sauce which at some point left the stove, flew across the boat and ended up in my buddy's brand new sleeping bag. The stain never came out.
There were six of us on the boat with four of us very sea sick. The waves were higher then our spreaders....I don't know how high; I was not in any mood to measure them. But I know this. As we came up on each wave, if you looked to starboard, there would be all these red lights. And if you looked to port, there would be all these green lights. The scary part was every time you came out of the trough, there would be different lights on each side. When we were down in the bottom of the wave, there would be no lights. Very scary.
Also as we came up each wave, we would do okay as we climbed the wave but when we reached the top the full force of the wind really hit us and we would get knocked over until we slid down the back side of the wave when we would again start to stand up once more. Very, very scary.
Two of the crew who were NOT seasick were eating the sweet rolls that was suppose to be for Sunday morning. And they were washing those down with Drambuie straight from the bottle. Every time they would ask for another sweet roll, one or more of us would get sick once again.
About three in the morning we decided that we really weren't racing anymore--actually we were just trying to survive under jib only. The two who could still steer were getting tired and cold, so I said let's turn around, head for West Van and drop out of the race. It actually was not too bad a ride home going with the wind and waves with only the jib. We did hull speed and then some.
Well, it turns out that the West Vancouver Yacht Club finally announced that winds in the Strait of Georgia reached sustained fifty-five knots. Steady winds of fifty five knots. No one every told me the height of the waves. We lost our man overboard pole and a light--I'm not sure how that happened. We also had spaghetti sauce all over the boat. It was slippery down below and the meatballs didn't help.
When we sold the Ranger 29 a couple of years later, my wife was cleaning the stove. She mentioned that it was rusting. Husband says that can't be since it is a stainless steel stove. She says, come look and damn if it is not rusting. Cheap stove? No, it turned out it was dried spaghetti sauce on the back of the stove.
And yes, we did go back with a Ranger 32 one year and took second in class. But we had much better winds.
I was new to long distant racing and was way back in the crowd at the start. Some of my crew were angry with me for being so far back. But they changed their tune when we drifted across at the gun and led our class out into the strait while most of our competitors were frantically trying to sail back across the line to officially start. We were leading! A Ranger 29 was leading a bunch of hot shot racers.
As we headed toward the White Islets, the wind started to pick up and we had good sailing with most of the fleet behind us. As we made the turn toward the Vancouver Island side winds continue to pick up to about twenty five knots. I had made spaghetti sauce--heavy duty Italian style and it didn't want to stay on the stove nor did the water for the spaghetti. It was then I got sea sick trying to hold the two pots level on the stove.
Winds continued to build during the early evening and we abandoned the spaghetti sauce which at some point left the stove, flew across the boat and ended up in my buddy's brand new sleeping bag. The stain never came out.
There were six of us on the boat with four of us very sea sick. The waves were higher then our spreaders....I don't know how high; I was not in any mood to measure them. But I know this. As we came up on each wave, if you looked to starboard, there would be all these red lights. And if you looked to port, there would be all these green lights. The scary part was every time you came out of the trough, there would be different lights on each side. When we were down in the bottom of the wave, there would be no lights. Very scary.
Also as we came up each wave, we would do okay as we climbed the wave but when we reached the top the full force of the wind really hit us and we would get knocked over until we slid down the back side of the wave when we would again start to stand up once more. Very, very scary.
Two of the crew who were NOT seasick were eating the sweet rolls that was suppose to be for Sunday morning. And they were washing those down with Drambuie straight from the bottle. Every time they would ask for another sweet roll, one or more of us would get sick once again.
About three in the morning we decided that we really weren't racing anymore--actually we were just trying to survive under jib only. The two who could still steer were getting tired and cold, so I said let's turn around, head for West Van and drop out of the race. It actually was not too bad a ride home going with the wind and waves with only the jib. We did hull speed and then some.
Well, it turns out that the West Vancouver Yacht Club finally announced that winds in the Strait of Georgia reached sustained fifty-five knots. Steady winds of fifty five knots. No one every told me the height of the waves. We lost our man overboard pole and a light--I'm not sure how that happened. We also had spaghetti sauce all over the boat. It was slippery down below and the meatballs didn't help.
When we sold the Ranger 29 a couple of years later, my wife was cleaning the stove. She mentioned that it was rusting. Husband says that can't be since it is a stainless steel stove. She says, come look and damn if it is not rusting. Cheap stove? No, it turned out it was dried spaghetti sauce on the back of the stove.
And yes, we did go back with a Ranger 32 one year and took second in class. But we had much better winds.
If you want to know about nasty stuff, just look here.
http://magicseaweed.com/msw-surf-charts2.php?chart=64&res=750&type=wind&starttime=
Notice not only the rough stuff up north, but also the never ending rough stuff way down south. The tropics though are pretty nice
http://magicseaweed.com/msw-surf-charts2.php?chart=64&res=750&type=wind&starttime=
Notice not only the rough stuff up north, but also the never ending rough stuff way down south. The tropics though are pretty nice
The start of the 2009 Around Long Island race was in a mystery location in the ocean off Far Rockaway AS the race committee was to seasick to broadcast the lat/lon
It was blowing 30++ knots out of the east and had built a breaking sea of 8' + at about a 10 second interval
It took 3 hours to find the line at which point 1/2 the crew was seasick and as it was more of a submarine ride and only about < 60 degrees we already had and issue with being cold and wet (it was august and normally the issue is heat stroke)
So we started and did some math and we figured it would take over 24 hours to reach Montauk and tacking into the beach and out again with a bunch of tired crew seemed a bad idea so along with about 50 other boats we turned back and went to Toys are US
It was blowing 30++ knots out of the east and had built a breaking sea of 8' + at about a 10 second interval
It took 3 hours to find the line at which point 1/2 the crew was seasick and as it was more of a submarine ride and only about < 60 degrees we already had and issue with being cold and wet (it was august and normally the issue is heat stroke)
So we started and did some math and we figured it would take over 24 hours to reach Montauk and tacking into the beach and out again with a bunch of tired crew seemed a bad idea so along with about 50 other boats we turned back and went to Toys are US
Brief but terrifying
We are mostly bay sailors and don't experience huge waves and other such conditions.
My wife and I had taken the day off to do some weekday sailing. The weather forecast was for partly sunny skies, 10 knot winds and a chance of thunderstorms for the late afternoon. We headed out to anchor in a cove just west of the barrier island that protects us from the Atlantic. We took the dinghy ashore and as I was looking East, all I could see was clear sunny skies. My wife in the bow of the dinghy and looking West, saw a dark cloud forming over the land. We did not like the look of the forming weather system and decided to head back to the boat. By the time we got there, it had started to rain and the winds picked up slightly. We hauled the anchor and motored at full throttle to the south and away from the approaching cloud. Within about ten minutes, we saw a mist form on the water less than a mile north of us. The mist started to swirl and then a slender funnel formed inside the mist , extending up to the cloud - Water Spout!! It was coming in our direction, the wind was up to 25 knots and it started to rain hard with some hail. The water was still calm despite the wind. We put on our PFD's and slickers and called the Coast Guard. The spout was getting closer when a second water spout appeared just behind the first one. The first water spout passed us abeam and less than a mile away. We were hit with a gust of wind that registered at 60 knots on the anerometer. The boat shook but nothing else happened. We were back in the river near our marina an hour later. The sun was out and the day was beautiful again. People in other boats that we passed were wondering why we were dressed for hurricane conditions. We had a stiff drink and sat in our slip for the rest of the afternoon.
We are mostly bay sailors and don't experience huge waves and other such conditions.
My wife and I had taken the day off to do some weekday sailing. The weather forecast was for partly sunny skies, 10 knot winds and a chance of thunderstorms for the late afternoon. We headed out to anchor in a cove just west of the barrier island that protects us from the Atlantic. We took the dinghy ashore and as I was looking East, all I could see was clear sunny skies. My wife in the bow of the dinghy and looking West, saw a dark cloud forming over the land. We did not like the look of the forming weather system and decided to head back to the boat. By the time we got there, it had started to rain and the winds picked up slightly. We hauled the anchor and motored at full throttle to the south and away from the approaching cloud. Within about ten minutes, we saw a mist form on the water less than a mile north of us. The mist started to swirl and then a slender funnel formed inside the mist , extending up to the cloud - Water Spout!! It was coming in our direction, the wind was up to 25 knots and it started to rain hard with some hail. The water was still calm despite the wind. We put on our PFD's and slickers and called the Coast Guard. The spout was getting closer when a second water spout appeared just behind the first one. The first water spout passed us abeam and less than a mile away. We were hit with a gust of wind that registered at 60 knots on the anerometer. The boat shook but nothing else happened. We were back in the river near our marina an hour later. The sun was out and the day was beautiful again. People in other boats that we passed were wondering why we were dressed for hurricane conditions. We had a stiff drink and sat in our slip for the rest of the afternoon.
Tommays is right about the 2009 Around Long Island Race. Except it got worse. There were 70 boats entered. 9 finished (two finishers were from the Naval Academy, and if THEY quit, they'd probably have to join the Army!). Officially, there were sustained winds at 40 kts, gusting to 55. Waves were 8-12 ft. To remain competitive, our course required that we stay close to the wind.
We had two reefs in the main and the jib was rolled in to a small triangle. Despite that, we were on our side and slamming for most of the trip. (Plus, we neglected to close the sink seacocks, so water was flowing in from the drains! sigh!)
We knew the weather was going to be bad, but we didn't know how we'd fare in it. We were all sick, cold, wet and absolutely exhausted.
By 8pm, after 5 hours of slogging through that junk, we were about 5 miles offshore. It was getting dark and the boat had been taking a beating.
We knew we'd have a good 5 more hours of this stuff, maybe more. Open ocean, a sick crew, dark, a boat that could break -- all of this made me decide to turn back. We got back after 10 to an eerily calm Sheepshead Bay Yacht Club. And the next day was glorious! Ah well!
We had two reefs in the main and the jib was rolled in to a small triangle. Despite that, we were on our side and slamming for most of the trip. (Plus, we neglected to close the sink seacocks, so water was flowing in from the drains! sigh!)
We knew the weather was going to be bad, but we didn't know how we'd fare in it. We were all sick, cold, wet and absolutely exhausted.
By 8pm, after 5 hours of slogging through that junk, we were about 5 miles offshore. It was getting dark and the boat had been taking a beating.
We knew we'd have a good 5 more hours of this stuff, maybe more. Open ocean, a sick crew, dark, a boat that could break -- all of this made me decide to turn back. We got back after 10 to an eerily calm Sheepshead Bay Yacht Club. And the next day was glorious! Ah well!
Perfect day in Penobscot Bay Maine about a dozen years ago. Stupidly, no NOAA radio on. Up comes a quick squall. 28 ft Sabre 5- 10' variable seas 70 knot winds according to the weather recorder on a nearby buoy sideways rain, lightning. All over in 20 minutes but seemed like 2 hours
3 Years ago coming back from the Dry Tortuga's. We were at anchor had thunder storms from 3 am till about 10 am. Got 8" of rain. I know that because the dink was dry before they began and had to bail 8" to put it back on the davits.
When we left the anchorage we had 25 to 30 kt winds out of the east, with gusts to 45. (Would have been better to Wait it out but I had to get home to go to work.) We had 10 to 12 ft seas with some around 14 feet. then the wind changed, out of the north at 30+kts and the seas became very confused. Beat the hell out of us. By night fall the winds were again around 30kts out of the east again even more confused seas. It was a heavy overcast night, the only way to tell a large wave was coming was to see the phosphorescent algae glisten at the top of the wave shortly before it arrived. We would roll over one wave, then our bow would bury its self into the oncoming wave from the other direction.
The boat and the three of us made it through with out too much trouble. Trying to walk below was a feat in gymnastics, as we coursed the sea and the boat while we were tosses around trying to either go to the sack or the head. Thought it might be a good idea to put a seat belt on the head to stay seated as we did our "business".
In the end we were very happy with the performance of the boat and ourselves. Now when I take a trip like that I always give my self an extra 2 days to come home so we can "Wait it out" if necessary.
When we left the anchorage we had 25 to 30 kt winds out of the east, with gusts to 45. (Would have been better to Wait it out but I had to get home to go to work.) We had 10 to 12 ft seas with some around 14 feet. then the wind changed, out of the north at 30+kts and the seas became very confused. Beat the hell out of us. By night fall the winds were again around 30kts out of the east again even more confused seas. It was a heavy overcast night, the only way to tell a large wave was coming was to see the phosphorescent algae glisten at the top of the wave shortly before it arrived. We would roll over one wave, then our bow would bury its self into the oncoming wave from the other direction.
The boat and the three of us made it through with out too much trouble. Trying to walk below was a feat in gymnastics, as we coursed the sea and the boat while we were tosses around trying to either go to the sack or the head. Thought it might be a good idea to put a seat belt on the head to stay seated as we did our "business".
In the end we were very happy with the performance of the boat and ourselves. Now when I take a trip like that I always give my self an extra 2 days to come home so we can "Wait it out" if necessary.
This is a tough one...I can't decide...was it getting hit by lightning in a squall with hail while at the wheel of a Sabre 34 one summer on the Pamlico River?...or maybe the knockdown and swamping of a Sharpie on the Bogue Sound, sunburn and dehydration from poor planning on 2-hour cruise..but no storm <grin>?...Nope...had to be beating all day into a 35+ knot headwind on a Cal 1/2 tonner on the upper Pamlico Sound before the Admiral called it quits and ordered us into the nearest sheltered water...4-1/2 feet of keel in 4' of water and then thunder, rain and lightning for supper...and these are just the ones recent enough to remember.
Good judgment comes from experience...most of that comes from bad judgment- Will Rogers
Good judgment comes from experience...most of that comes from bad judgment- Will Rogers
Pinned by a T-Storm Downdraft
A couple of years ago I was coming back from the Isles of Shoals in my 05H36 when I noticed a very dark cumulo-nimbus coming out to meet me. Its radar image was a more solid yellow than the shore return, with lots of blue to either side (where I could see rain curtains), so I 3-reefed the main and took in 10 turns on the jib, planning to feather into it.
As it got to me, I started feeling a little cocky about how well I was doing with wind machine readings up to 48kts, when a sudden downdraft of more serious wind (and water) came straight down on my head. The wind direction got chaotic and the jib back-winded, spinning Persephone around where these winds pinned her on her port side and held her there. (The blow-dried weather-person later referred to "several thunderstorms with over 60mph gusts.")
While I was crawling along what had been the side of the cockpit to reach and release the cabin-top halyard winch, the boat just calmly fore-reached as nice as you could ask for, with water only reaching the side deck and the cockpit as dry as a bone. (Let's hear it for broad-sterned Glen Henderson designs with "too much freeboard.")
Once I released the halyard, Persephone righted herself as if nothing had happened, and we headed up and feathered (in an entirely new direction from before) until the winds died down. I now have a lot more faith in her (and more respect for T-Storm downdrafts).
Masochistic Reverse Nantucket Sleigh-ride
The week after the Fugawi race weekend is a great time to sail the Vineyard and Nantucket, with few crowds, no need for dockage reservations and cheap rates. This season, our clever captain (yours truly) scheduled our return from Nantucket to Vineyard Haven to coincide with the ebb in Nantucket Sound, so as to get a 2kt westward speed boost, shortening a 4hr trip.
Unfortunately, Captain Clever didn't count on 20-25kt westerlies gusting to 30, and what that would do against 2 kts in such a shallow body of constricted water. The answer, students, is 4-6ft chop (i.e. 4-6 second wave period) holding my 7.5kt boat to under 4 kts when motor-sailing into it at full RPMs.
While the boat did quite well, after 7 hrs of this we were very glad to tie up at Black Dog Wharf. Rick, the surfer-dude dockmaster, said "well, aren't you hardy sailors. I was out with my board off East Chop, but it was too rough for me." I gamely tried to smile, but the look my wife shot me said "you really owe me for this one." Once again - what the boat can take is not necessarily what the crew can take.
Downwind is Different
This September 25th, as came out of Portland's inner harbor on our way to Kennebunkport, the cold front that had come in overnight was giving us a steady 25kts on the nose, and staring to build some really nasty chop. By the time we rounded Cape Elizabeth with the wind dropping back to our port quarter, the waves had built to 3-5ft and growing.
However, once we reached our 7.5kt hull speed (under 3-reefed main and most of our little 110% jib out), what had been waves with a 5 sec (or less) period became apparent swells with almost twice that period. They continued to grow in magnitude (4-6), but that made little difference (although I did have to hand steer to avoid any unpleasant autopilot changes in heading). We made good 30nm dock-to-dock to Chick's Marina in 4hrs and 10min. Nice.
Persephone's Limits (and mine)
Since my eye-level when standing at the helm is 8ft above the waterline, I don't mean to imply great accuracy in mentioning waves higher than that. If they are swells and the shore disappears in the troughs, I can only guestimate based on my lifeline heights/spacing.
However, last year's trip up to Maine had that happening as we passed Richmond Island, with my estimate being 10-12ft. I've learned that wave period in relation to height is much more important than absolute height. The aforementioned seas were just swells, and it doesn't take long to relax and enjoy them. On the other hand, 5ft seas with 5sec period can beat you to death, even though with a 10sec period they are hardly worth mentioning.
With the custom sails I had Doyle make for me when I ordered Persephone, I have verified that they did, indeed, meet my specification of "good for anything between 3 and 30kts."
I don't volunteer for more than 6ft seas and 30kt winds, but have exceeded both with the boat having far more in reserve than me. However, "it's not the wind, it's the seas."
Fair winds,
Al
s/v Persephone
A couple of years ago I was coming back from the Isles of Shoals in my 05H36 when I noticed a very dark cumulo-nimbus coming out to meet me. Its radar image was a more solid yellow than the shore return, with lots of blue to either side (where I could see rain curtains), so I 3-reefed the main and took in 10 turns on the jib, planning to feather into it.
As it got to me, I started feeling a little cocky about how well I was doing with wind machine readings up to 48kts, when a sudden downdraft of more serious wind (and water) came straight down on my head. The wind direction got chaotic and the jib back-winded, spinning Persephone around where these winds pinned her on her port side and held her there. (The blow-dried weather-person later referred to "several thunderstorms with over 60mph gusts.")
While I was crawling along what had been the side of the cockpit to reach and release the cabin-top halyard winch, the boat just calmly fore-reached as nice as you could ask for, with water only reaching the side deck and the cockpit as dry as a bone. (Let's hear it for broad-sterned Glen Henderson designs with "too much freeboard.")
Once I released the halyard, Persephone righted herself as if nothing had happened, and we headed up and feathered (in an entirely new direction from before) until the winds died down. I now have a lot more faith in her (and more respect for T-Storm downdrafts).
Masochistic Reverse Nantucket Sleigh-ride
The week after the Fugawi race weekend is a great time to sail the Vineyard and Nantucket, with few crowds, no need for dockage reservations and cheap rates. This season, our clever captain (yours truly) scheduled our return from Nantucket to Vineyard Haven to coincide with the ebb in Nantucket Sound, so as to get a 2kt westward speed boost, shortening a 4hr trip.
Unfortunately, Captain Clever didn't count on 20-25kt westerlies gusting to 30, and what that would do against 2 kts in such a shallow body of constricted water. The answer, students, is 4-6ft chop (i.e. 4-6 second wave period) holding my 7.5kt boat to under 4 kts when motor-sailing into it at full RPMs.
While the boat did quite well, after 7 hrs of this we were very glad to tie up at Black Dog Wharf. Rick, the surfer-dude dockmaster, said "well, aren't you hardy sailors. I was out with my board off East Chop, but it was too rough for me." I gamely tried to smile, but the look my wife shot me said "you really owe me for this one." Once again - what the boat can take is not necessarily what the crew can take.
Downwind is Different
This September 25th, as came out of Portland's inner harbor on our way to Kennebunkport, the cold front that had come in overnight was giving us a steady 25kts on the nose, and staring to build some really nasty chop. By the time we rounded Cape Elizabeth with the wind dropping back to our port quarter, the waves had built to 3-5ft and growing.
However, once we reached our 7.5kt hull speed (under 3-reefed main and most of our little 110% jib out), what had been waves with a 5 sec (or less) period became apparent swells with almost twice that period. They continued to grow in magnitude (4-6), but that made little difference (although I did have to hand steer to avoid any unpleasant autopilot changes in heading). We made good 30nm dock-to-dock to Chick's Marina in 4hrs and 10min. Nice.
Persephone's Limits (and mine)
Since my eye-level when standing at the helm is 8ft above the waterline, I don't mean to imply great accuracy in mentioning waves higher than that. If they are swells and the shore disappears in the troughs, I can only guestimate based on my lifeline heights/spacing.
However, last year's trip up to Maine had that happening as we passed Richmond Island, with my estimate being 10-12ft. I've learned that wave period in relation to height is much more important than absolute height. The aforementioned seas were just swells, and it doesn't take long to relax and enjoy them. On the other hand, 5ft seas with 5sec period can beat you to death, even though with a 10sec period they are hardly worth mentioning.
With the custom sails I had Doyle make for me when I ordered Persephone, I have verified that they did, indeed, meet my specification of "good for anything between 3 and 30kts."
I don't volunteer for more than 6ft seas and 30kt winds, but have exceeded both with the boat having far more in reserve than me. However, "it's not the wind, it's the seas."
Fair winds,
Al
s/v Persephone
Seems everyone has their story to tell. Glad all made it back safely to port. I've had my thrills in the Chesapeake Bay, where the relatively shallow waters can put up some really messy chop and our N'easters are infamous.
My most memorable moment occurred on a trip up the bay a number of years ago when I had very little experience in the boat I was in. Lost the engine due to a clogged fuel filter, the genoa was torn and became unuseable after the wind whipped us around a few times. Wind started to howl at 25k and increasing. Seas 5' plus. Late afternoon and more than 30 miles to the closest port. Raised the mainsail and reefed it. A late winter hours haze set in at dusk on the horizon and the wind blowing on our intended direction. Arrived after dark, safe, anxious, nervous, but relieved that we had made a bad sitution turn out to be one of the best teaching lessons I've ever had. Years later, I still recall the day and now make sure our boat is seaworthy in every manner. Plus years of experience has helped too.
My most memorable moment occurred on a trip up the bay a number of years ago when I had very little experience in the boat I was in. Lost the engine due to a clogged fuel filter, the genoa was torn and became unuseable after the wind whipped us around a few times. Wind started to howl at 25k and increasing. Seas 5' plus. Late afternoon and more than 30 miles to the closest port. Raised the mainsail and reefed it. A late winter hours haze set in at dusk on the horizon and the wind blowing on our intended direction. Arrived after dark, safe, anxious, nervous, but relieved that we had made a bad sitution turn out to be one of the best teaching lessons I've ever had. Years later, I still recall the day and now make sure our boat is seaworthy in every manner. Plus years of experience has helped too.
Mine was actually rowing and the conditions were the complete opposite of what everybody here describes.
Back in 1968 I visited a quaint little fishing village on the west coast of Mexico - Zihuatanejo. There I met a Vietnam vet who was just chilling. He had a Klepper folding boat and he, one other guy and I decided to row it up the coast. We got outside the bay and there was a steady, smoothe swell. With the three of us in the boat, we were making very little progress, so the boat was just going uuuup and down, uuuup and down. The boat's owner got worse sea sickness than I've ever seen. His downfall was that he had a great sense of humor, so he'd dry heave over the side, then sit there and recuperate. Then, after a few seconds, our eyes would meet (I was rowing, so looking aft at him), and I'd try not to laugh. Then he'd start laughing and dry heave all over again. This must have gone on for an hour, until some fishermen passed us by and gave us a tow to a totally deserted beach a ways up the coast.
That beach and what lay behind it is another story, but at least for my boat buddy, I doubt he'll ever forget how sick he was. I won't either.
Back in 1968 I visited a quaint little fishing village on the west coast of Mexico - Zihuatanejo. There I met a Vietnam vet who was just chilling. He had a Klepper folding boat and he, one other guy and I decided to row it up the coast. We got outside the bay and there was a steady, smoothe swell. With the three of us in the boat, we were making very little progress, so the boat was just going uuuup and down, uuuup and down. The boat's owner got worse sea sickness than I've ever seen. His downfall was that he had a great sense of humor, so he'd dry heave over the side, then sit there and recuperate. Then, after a few seconds, our eyes would meet (I was rowing, so looking aft at him), and I'd try not to laugh. Then he'd start laughing and dry heave all over again. This must have gone on for an hour, until some fishermen passed us by and gave us a tow to a totally deserted beach a ways up the coast.
That beach and what lay behind it is another story, but at least for my boat buddy, I doubt he'll ever forget how sick he was. I won't either.
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