3:00 a.m., alone on the steering watch, wet and bone cold, hallucinating from sense obliterating fatigue. Thrusting skyward an unseen wave towers momentarily above the stern before exploding into the cockpit. Consciousness returns, dimly prompted by a tugging safety harness which has saved me from being lost overboard,.
Faint lamp glow deep within our vessel reveals a smashed deckhouse. Dark shapes wade through bilges awash in seawater. Silhouetted, propped naked in the companionway wreckage, "Bones" furiously bails with an old bucket. Inexplicably we survive this storm’s violence as the dark night consumes two nearby cruising yachts, entire families disappearing without trace.
"Avoid setting out to sea without taking account of a comprehensive weather forecast." Strangely, this primary rule of storm avoidance is frequently violated. Excuses are legion, ranging from foolishly sticking to departure deadlines, not knowing where to get the information or just plain forgetting. None justify the loss of a boat and its crew.
Weather satellites continually scan our planet. Meteorological information is disseminated on a worldwide basis to mariners. Airports, coast guards, navy bases, regional weather stations are dedicated to continuous forecasting service. Relatively inexpensive equipment such as "weather fax" receives radio or satellite transmissions and can output up-to-date, regional weather maps onboard a sailboat, on any ocean, at any time. Weather trends can even be determined by watching t.v. news shows at your local waterfront bar.
We sailed into harms way in my first Pacific storm due to not having advance weather data. I was crewing on a 42' sloop returning to Australia from a trip in the South Pacific. That eventful leg of our voyage involved cruising from Raratonga to Auckland. The sailing plan required staying in the "trade wind" belt, sailing downwind toward Fiji before traversing southward through the "variables" toward New Zealand.
We left the Cook Islands in sunny weather with a light, quartering breeze. Several extravagant departure parties tempered our preparedness. Three days from land, classic clues of an approaching storm became evident. Ocean swells increased in size without an appreciable change in wind velocity. Barometer readings began trending downward rapidly. Blissfully ignoring warning signs, we continued our pleasant downwind ride.
There are many causes of bad weather. Mariners should particularly be aware of two major storm types; tropical region events called hurricanes or cyclones, and higher latitude storms known as extra-tropical cyclones.
We had followed basic storm avoidance principles by sailing through the tropics at a time of year when cyclonic storms don’t usually occur. However, when it comes to weather, there are always exceptions to the rules! Long distance mariners must treat formulaic weather rules with a degree of skepticism and immediately respond to unexpected weather conditions.
Wind velocity markedly increased on the fourth day. We anticipated a thirty-day passage to New Zealand so stronger breezes were welcome. More distance was made good as our boat occasionally surfed down longer swells. Wind speed increased the next night so sail was progressively reduced. Twenty-four hours later the vessel consistently surfed under jib alone. Our first knockdown occurred the next afternoon.
I awoke lying on the ceiling above my bunk, the hull still reverberating from a tremendous crash. The boat lay inverted for a long, eerie moment before gradually righting. Our yacht had plunged down a particularly steep swell and tripped on its long keel causing a sideways broach. The oncoming wave then broke across the exposed hull rotating it into the ocean. Fortunately our yacht hadn’t rolled over completely but it went far enough to get everybody’s absolute attention. We immediately hove to and began seriously assessing our situation in order to determine a safety strategy.
Crucial data for storm management strategy can be generated by periodically recording prevailing sea and weather conditions. Barometric trends, swell heights and wind directions noted in our log indicated the possible presence of an unseasonable tropical storm rather than a passing gale. We understood enough basic weather theory to begin taking evasive action in spite of our collective lack of sailing experience.
Tropical storm systems originate as areas of intense low pressure attracting air into a central vortex. It’s useful to think of them as large inverted funnels of air movement often covering several hundred square miles. Wind spirals anti-clockwise into the storm center in the Northern Hemisphere and clockwise in the Southern Hemisphere.
Generally, sailors can determine storm center location and probable directional movement of systems by observing changes in prevailing, local, wind direction. Rule of thumb for the Northern Hemisphere is that approaching storm centers are approximately 120 degrees to the right of local wind direction and 120 degrees to the left of local wind direction in the Southern Hemisphere.
Tropical storm systems in the Northern Hemisphere trade wind belt initially trend westward with a northerly component whereas Southern Hemisphere systems trend westward developing southerly components. Eventually, as the systems leave tropics and enter mid latitudes, they trend back toward the east. These large semicircular, directional movements occur over many hundreds of miles and are caused by the "Coriolis effect" of Earth's rotation.
Another important feature of tropical storms is that wind speeds and seas are extremely dangerous to mariners trapped on the inside section of a storm system curve. Proper evasive action requires moving away from a system’s directional curve in order that a vessel is not encircled by the storm track.
In our case, the wind was originating from a southeasterly direction. We guessed the storm center to be northeast and heading straight toward us because local wind direction had remained fairly steady for some time. Assuming the storm center would ultimately begin a southerly curve, our best evasive action seemed heading off in a northwesterly direction.
Hundreds of miles of sea room lay to the north between us the Tongan reefs. We edged in that direction at a speed compatible with extreme weather conditions, planning to fall in behind the storm system following south toward New Zealand once it had passed.
Wind speeds increased over the next day with frequent bursts in the 60-80 knot range. Eventually prevailing winds developed a distinct southerly component. This indicated the storm center was swinging away with our boat outside "the curve". However, seas were running 25-30 feet with occasional waves 5-10 feet higher. We still to address many, extreme weather, sailing problems.
Classic, long keel, storm sailing strategy suggests that as wind velocity increases, downwind boat speed must be kept constant or reduced. The typical sequence is progressive sail area reduction, then bare pole sailing, followed by streaming warps or sea anchor aft before finally lying ahull. We followed this strategy until sailing under bare pole at 4 or 5 knots. Our consensus was that the yacht was still moving too fast so we began trailing warps. In retrospect, I feel this was probably an error.
Warps cause drag, slowing forward momentum, which prevents surfing out of control. However, sliding off a wave’s back often results in warps bunching up behind the boat. Inertial influence is absent as the vessel becomes a target, lying dangerously "akimbo" and stationary, at the base of the next breaking wave. I recall doing surf boat drills as a lifesaver in Australia. We always preferred riding out breaking waves, even risking a broach, rather than being dead in the water and taking a direct hit from large breaker.
Long keel yachts are notoriously poor downwind surfers requiring skill and anticipation by those who are steering. I believe reasonable speed should be maintained, at least 3 or 4 knots, so that steering straight ahead is effective. Helmsmen who lose control in extreme seas, at any speed, have limited options. When plunging down very large, breaking waves, the best course may be translating the vessel's forward motion into a sideways slide so as to take breaking seas on your quarter. Dangerous consequences of being pooped can be minimized and while knockdowns might occur this is far preferable to the catastrophic effects of pitch poling.
Perhaps the most important collateral detail affecting steering is boat trim or internal weight distribution within a vessel. Cruising vessels are often overloaded with supplies. Yachts must be properly balanced to facilitate steering in storm conditions. Weight should especially be removed from the bow so as reduce impetus for pitch poling.
Should wind and wave condition increase to the point where a boat is out of control, I would suggest lying ahull, presenting the yacht’s strongest bow or stern quarter to seas, until conditions moderate. Few strategies avert disaster when 30' vertical faces drop on a boat. However, survival is often determined by addressing numerous subtle factors populating the boundary between success and failure.
Our pooping occurred late one night while trailing warps. Resultant damage was astonishing, most of the cabin house simply destroyed by a rogue wave. We immediately streamed a sea anchor off the bow and lashed our rudder to one side, presenting a bow quarter to the sea in order to protect the exposed stern. Temporary repairs were effected after the yacht was bailed out, plastic buckets being much more efficient than the blocked bilge pumps. We lay ahull for another four days, totally vulnerable to circumstance, before conditions became manageable again. After the storm abated, we continued our trip to New Zealand and arrived without further incident.
Heavy weather tactics are much the same for most ocean conditions. Open sea is usually the safest place during poor weather. The interaction of sea and land; however, combine to greatly complicate survival problems. Coastal storm management can be a complex task and the lure of safe harbor is often fatally seductive.
I crewed on a 60' steel ketch being delivered from its English builders to the Caribbean during the early seventies. It was mid winter and the owner was very anxious to leave for the Caribbean in order to start a new charter business. A number of initial shakedown cruises indicated a sound boat. However, weather conditions were very bad that winter. Severe storm fronts regularly crossed the North Atlantic, preventing us from commencing the delivery voyage.
After a frustrating delay, we decided to take advantage of a favorable gap between storm systems. It was early February. The last storm had passed a few days earlier. Advanced weather forecasts showed a new frontal system coming in across the North Atlantic. We reasoned that at moderate sailing or motoring speed our vessel could reach Portugal’s southern coast, well below the storm track during the 3-4 day fine weather window.
Extra tropical cyclones are the "tropical storm" counterpart in higher latitudes. They are intense, low-pressure systems generally moving in a west to east direction. A characteristic feature of these systems is that they often contain masses of warm air and cold air moving in separate directions. The boundary separating these air movements is called a front. Fronts have very distinct cloud and wind sequences which foreshadow directional approach, rate of movement and storm system orientation. The central, low pressure, vortex is generally in the middle of a "front" line.
We all felt the departure strategy was reasonable and safe. Confidence in the decision to sail quickly ebbed away when our steering broke down halfway across the Bay of Biscay. Bolts fixing our rudder to the steering shaft sheared, leaving it swinging free. We attempted tying ropes to the rudder but freezing temperatures and extreme sea motion prevented us free diving long enough to effect a jury rig repair.
Fortunately our vessel was ketch-rigged and could be steered with some accuracy by manipulating sails. Hardening up on aft sails and slacking forward ones steered us into the wind. Reversing this procedure caused our boat to fall off. Shifting sail center of effort forward or aft of the hull’s center of lateral resistance is the same technical skill required when steering a sailboard.
Sail area management, with or without a rudder, is crucial during storm conditions. A boat should have enough sail aloft to maintain sufficient boat speed required for maneuvering without being overwhelmed. Functional integrity of reefing systems and sails is very important. These items should be checked and maintained frequently. Jammed gear and failing sails are unpleasant surprises when trying to sail clear of a lee shore.
Upon reaching the Spanish coast, we discovered our navigator had committed navigation’s cardinal sin. Overconfident in our ability to sail straight to our first destination, the Canary Islands, he hadn’t purchased adequately detailed charts of coastlines we were to pass by en route. As a result, a high school atlas, map of Spain informed our contingency plan for reaching safe harbor through treacherous, coastal reef formations.
We closed the Spanish coast late in the afternoon two days later but were discouraged from further exploration after encountering breaking waves far offshore. Heading back to sea in the gathering gloom of evening our hopes now rested on hailing a passing vessel for a tow before the storm closed. This didn't happen and we spent the next two weeks battered by large waves and buffeted by winds reaching force 12 strength.
Survival options were limited. The Bay of Biscay has 30’ tides with coastal currents to match.
Heading downwind and beaching our boat through massive storm surf would undoubtedly produce fatal results. Sails couldn’t be used during high wind periods although limited maneuvering under engine was possible. Wind pressure against our hull kept us broadside to swell direction and essentially at right angles to nearest land. This allowed for a coastal approach under power or sail if conditions permitted. Our strategy was by necessity quite simple. Head toward land if conditions abated, otherwise stand out to sea and stay with our yacht until it either survived or sank beneath us.
It is tempting to risk closing coasts during storms because lying ahull is extremely uncomfortable and sea conditions can appear frightening; however, doing so is often extremely foolhardy, especially on a leeshore. Approaching a coast during a severe storm usually only makes sense when the wind blows from land out to sea because wave action and size diminishes as land is approached. If harbor entries are well enough defined, a safe port entry may be made.
Coastal, current dynamics can also generate dangerous and unusual wave conditions. This is particularly true when prevailing wind opposes current direction. High winds blowing into a strong current readily produce freak wave heights. This "theory of oppositions" must also be taken into consideration when making heavy weather entry into port. By definition, many good harbors are characterized by substantial embayments with narrow entries. Strong tidal currents can be generated in these narrow gaps. In this situation, heavy air approaches should preferably occur at slack water during a high tide for maximum safety.
We experienced two serious knockdowns in the Bay of Biscay. Our skipper had sailed toward the coast during a daylong respite in conditions only to find no sign of harbor. Gigantic surf was breaking against the distant cliffs and a darkening horizon indicated an approaching squall line. Landing was out of question so the skipper reversed and headed back to sea, whereupon the squall hit with wind speeds accelerating to well over 80 knots. The steep, coastal swells quickly increased in height and began breaking.
Essentially, nothing can stop waves from breaking so survival rests on the structural integrity of your boat. Adequately reinforced, watertight bulkheads, secure hatches and good porthole construction are particularly important in breaking wave situations. Recessed portholes can be very dangerous design features. Try spraying a garden hose onto a flat surface and then direct the same stream into a small recess. Water sprays back with tremendous velocity, graphically demonstrating force concentration occurring in recesses. Many boats have eventually sunk or incurred serious damage when large recessed porthole areas have been blown apart by waves crashing into them. Waves pounding our decks produced unbelievable results. In one instance, all our weather side stanchions, which were welded onto steel studs were knocked flat against the steel deck,.
Stormy conditions, endured over several days are extremely fatiguing for sailing crews. Reasonable rest and recovery is prevented by lack of sleep, tension and poor nutrition. Yet, alertness is an essential attribute when faced with sudden emergencies. It is essential that skippers and experienced crewmembers exercise good leadership. Leadership does not necessarily involve strict regimentation and shouting orders. Under extreme conditions, good leaders, reduce unnecessary work, shorten watches and battle despondency by keeping moral high. Crew energy and optimism is a vital resource and must be conserved. When the chips are down, motivated crewmembers function better than those who are tired and fatalistic.
Crew survival also raises ethical issues relating to responsibility and accountability. Positions on this matter are variously argued in the sailing community. At one end is a view that the captain is ultimately responsible for crew safety. The opposite stance suggests crew, being adventurers, are at risk (all care, no responsibility, etc). I believe the skipper has prime responsibility for safety. However, there needs to be a premium placed on practical responses to danger. If a captain proves inexperienced in dealing with life threatening situations, it is justifiable and necessary to call on experienced crew for advice. In this context it seems to me that crew safety becomes a collective accountability. The luxury of sorting out command privileges and liabilities can be sorted out when safely ashore.
We finally hailed a passing ship and the question arose as to whether we should abandon our vessel or take a tow. If crew is alive and well and the boat capable of surviving prevailing conditions then there's really no reason to abandon your vessel. The mere act of leaving safety, by crossing to another craft during a storm is questionable at best and should only be attempted if your yacht is sinking.
We decided to take a tow. This represented another problem when the large freighter came alongside. We missed catching towing lines cast to us and became trapped in the ship’s lee, high swells rolling her hull against ours. A vessel’s structural integrity is the only factor preventing disaster in this situation. It took four days to be towed to safety. The tow line broke half a dozen a times so we continually faced the danger of passing lines back and forth.
A large, towing "Samson" post was welded to the forward deck. However, towing stress caused deck plates to pull apart and welds sealing the forward watertight bulkhead eventually gave way. Our bow was constantly awash and seawater eventually filled the forward compartment. It was a rested, organized and disciplined crew bailing with a couple of plastic buckets that saved the boat from sinking.
Eventually, we were towed into La Corunna. Remarkably, the vessel held together and no one was seriously hurt. Copious amounts of fine Spanish wine and cigars were consumed at the town’s yacht club celebrating our survival. A brief week later our crew split and went separate ways. The owner stayed behind, spending six months repairing his damaged yacht before heading off across the Atlantic. I found another yacht in the harbor needing crew and sailed to the Caribbean, albeit in a 75 year old, Baltic ketch which sorely tempted fate again but that is another story.
Our oceans cover three-fifths of the earth's surface and show many aspects to those who sail upon them. Barriers, highways, frontiers, habitats are only some of their facets. The sea primarily manifests nature's beauty and mystery and exploring its dimensions surely challenges one's own limits but the final and absolute lesson of seamanship is that nature is impersonal and has no capacity for forgiveness.
Excellent books on the subject are listed below…. I hope they are still in print.
Bibliography
1. Coles, Adlard, K. Heavy Weather Sailing. New York; John de Graff, 1981... an excellent compendium of storm sailing situations and conclusions.
2. Chapman, Piloting, Seamanship and Small Boat Handling. New York: Hearst Books, 1979.... a standard reference, as the title suggests, with good sections on weather types.
3. Bowditch. American Practical Navigator. Washington: Defence Mapping Agency Hydrographic Centre, 1977... The navigators' bible, contains excellent discussion on weather elements.
4. Watts:.....Various books on weather identification for those who wish to pursue the art.
