Worst weather or biggest sea situation

[Mark Prouty]

Heading Downwind

If you find it necessary to head downwind in heavy seas, the best way is to proceed slowly. Set your throttle to a speed matching the speed of the waves. Place your boat on the backside of a wave and stay there. Don't get impatient. Adjust your throttle and steering to accomplish this. If the waves are big enough to scare you, don't let them creep up behind and overtake you. Likewise, don't go so fast as to pass the wave, drop off the crest and bury your bow in the trough or back of the next wave.

Surprisingly, waves travel pretty fast. Ride the back of one home for a smooth, controllable ride.

If anchored and the wind is really howling, keep your boat in forward gear at idle speed and steer straight into the wind to take some strain off the anchor. Remember, don't panic.

If the closest land is a lee shore and there's no place available for pulling in and getting out of the storm, head upwind toward deeper water. Yes, I know. This is the less logical-sounding part. Here's why you should: Waves get bigger and break when they encounter shallow water. A four-foot wave that encounters hard bottom three feet down is a breaking (and dangerous) wave. Again, just stay cool and head straight into the wind, using just enough throttle to maintain position -- no faster. You don't want to be punching through waves, just rising up and over them.

BoatersWorld

These quotes provide advice from BoatersWorld.com for when one inadvertently gets stuck out in bad weather. I came close to this once on Lake Superior. I decided to motor to an anchorage after dark. I found the anchorage but it was so rocky I couldn't set the anchor. I had to head out into the lake. It was a really dark moonless night. I couldn't see well enough to get anywhere. I decided to just motor out a ways and wait until morning. My son was freaking-out so I called the coast guard to let them know of our situation. A few hours later they called to say a big storm was coming. The came out and escorted us to a place we could dock. This is not that frightening of a story but the descriptions above of what to do when caught in bad weather made me think there must be some good stories out there.

What is the worst weather or biggest sea situation that you've ever found yourself in? How did the Mac handle it?

[mike]

My son was freaking-out so I called the coast guard to let them know of our situation. A few hours later they called to say a big storm was coming. The came out and escorted us to a place we could dock.

Wow, that sure was nice of them! And I suppose it makes sense from a financial standpoint also, as it was undoubtedly cheaper to send out a single boat to escort you in rather than having to mount a large SAR mission later.

Out of curiosity, was it not feasible for them to simply give you GPS coordinates of where to go?

--Mike

[Mark Prouty]

I had the GPS position to Windigo, but getting there was a problem. I was off Huginnin Cove on Isle Royale in LakeSuperior. I couldn't anchor at Huginnin Cove. Safe harbor was at Windigo. To get to Windigo, I would have to pass through the North Gap on a pitch black night. There are some nasty shoals there. Also, the wreck of the steamship America still lies there. It is 183 feet, ran for 20 years and had the capacity to carry over 300 passengers before it sunk in 1928 on the shoal. The bow sticks up to only about 1 foot below water.

[Jesse Days Pacific Star 2]

Below is th story of our moderately rough rde between Bell Harbor and Shilshole Marinas on Puget sound. This was Memorial Day weekend 04.

Sunday morning, getting ready to leave Bell Harbor, the wind was blowing 17mph with higher gusts. It was crazy just getting out away from the dock in that much wind. The skipper from the boat next to us gave us a hand. I had him hold a bow line, I put the engine in reverse, pointed it and the rudders out and let it pull me away from the dock to point, in reverse, out into the marina. When we got to where we could go ahead and back out, the other skipper just tossed the line onto our bow deck. That all worked pretty cool. Backed all the out to the end of the marina where I could turn her down wind and we took off.

Rough water on the way back. We were running in 2 to 3 ft seas with massive white caps. I had been cautious and filled our water ballast and that settled her down in the water quite a bit. She rode a lot heavier. As ya know, Elliot Bay is a convergence zone for weather. Rollers coming at us from just about all directions. A lot of spray and waves over the bow as we hit big rollers. Left the rudders and centerboard down and motored back at about 5 knots. Some of the rollers were so violent, from the rear, that it came close to lifting the prop out of the water a couple of times.

The good news is that the boat performed like a champ. Handled the rough stuff really great and we never did feel uneasy about the situation. Beverly didn't even get uneasy. The boat was extremely stable and sea-worthy. Slow trip back however. Going down Friday morning it took about 45 minutes. Coming back it took about and hour and 45 minutes.

[Duane Dunn, Allegro]

We hit our roughest water this summer on our 23 day Canadian trip. All three of our strait crossing, San Juan once, and Greorgia twice, were made with 'small craft advisories' posted yet they were non events.

We were headed south in the Gulfs on 7/06/2004 from Silva Bay on Gabriola Island to Poets Cove on South Pender Island. This was a 43.48 Nautical mile trip the length of the Gulfs that took 6-1/2 hours to make.

We left Silva bay at 8:30am with the kids still in bed. We went out past Shipwreck rock into Commodore Passage and south to Gabriola pass. The current was running 2-3 knots with us. There were some minor rips and upwellings.

Safely through, and turning the nose south down Pyledes channel we cruised in peaceful waters past the tugs working the large log booms. Little did we know that these same waters later in the day would be a boiling kettle of trouble. After discussing how long it would take to get to Poets Cove at our 6 knot pace we decided to detour to Thetis Island and Telegraph harbor to get more gas so we could go faster. We turned west south of Pyledes Island and then ran down Thetis to stop at Thetis Bay marina. After fueling we continued south down Kuper then north for Hornebery passage back to Thonberry channel. Definitely a bit of a detour, but we hoped to go at the 10 knots we were making and gain back some time.

As soon as we rounded Southey Point turning south cruising with empty ballast at 10 knots all hull broke loose. The wind was up over 30 knots dead on the nose and against a ebb tide. The seas were 3'-5' and very steep and tight together, no swells here. The water was a solid mass of white caps with spray blowing off the tops. We slowed to 6 knots but were still launching off the waves and slamming down. Everyone down below started looking worried. We slowed to 4 knots but it was to slow and we lost headway and control with each wave. Back up at 5 knots we just had to take our licks as we launched of the second wave of every set. We had to claw and pound our way south of Wallace island, it seemed to take forever to put the buoy at Panther point behind us, and then we angled off east looking for shelter behind some small islands along Galiano. Dawn took pictures of the dinghy 'getting air' as it was towed along behind. Once behind these islands things calmed down a bit and we plotted a new winding course south using everybit of protection we could find. We ended up going through Montegue harbor where we came across a large sailboat that had ended up on the rocks in the winds.

Finally we made it to the north tip of N. Pender island but our shelter was gone and the seas were up yet again. Just then I spotted a pod of killer whales going north between us and the shore down the port side. We slowed and drifted as we watched them go by. A great reward after a rough day on the water. Once they went out of sight we turned back south and staying very close to shore slowly made our way to Poets Cove in Bedwell Harbor. It was a long hard day and we averaged 6 Knots which was the original plan before we took the detour. Live and learn.

The other place were we have encountered quite rough conditions numerous times in Puget Sound is just north of Point No Point. From there west past the aptly named FoulWeather Bluff across the entrance of Hood Canal to Port Ludlow has reared it's ugly head many times. This section of Admiralty Inlet with Whidbey to the north get's very rough when the wind is from the N/NW.

The long trip had it's share of rough water. The first day out of Seattle in Admiralty Inlet as mentioned above on our way to Fort Flaggler near Port Townsend. The passage north from Pirates Cove through Dodd Narrows past Nanaimo to Schooner Cove at Nanoose. The passage up Jervis from Pender Harbor to Princess Louisa. The early part of the run out of Jervis from Eggmont back across the Strait of Georgia to Schooner Cove (although the Strait proper was calm). The run described above going south in the Gulfs was the worst. The leg south down Saratoga Passage to Langley once we were back inside through Deception Pass got rough once south of Oak Harbor. All in all though for 23 days out on the water it was a great trip on mostly calm seas. The weather was great as well with only one day of rain.

[Dave X2000 Jac]

Most Scared: I like this string because it allows for differentiation of "worst conditions" experiences. We were on a diagonal across Lake Erie from Port Dover, Ontario around Long Point SSW to Conneaut, OH. The water was relatively calm, but right in the middle of the lake we hit a fog bank so thick it was hard to see the anchor locker from behind the wheel - no exaggeration. We knew we were in a major shipping channel, so we hoisted the radar reflector and put out a VHF all call for any large vessel to let us know they "see" us on radar. We started getting more concerned when we got no response. Was it a lack of ships or a lack of a signal? We stayed in that fog for the next 30 miles. At the PA/OH border, a couple of miles off shore, the fog started to break up. I kept visualizing the 40 foot-high bow of a 1000 foot ore boat being the first thing I see above my head through the fog.
Crummiest Boating: In the North Channel on the way from Mudge Bay (Kagawong) to Little Current - the waves were 5-6 footers, pointed with just a little white cap. Everyother wave went clear over the bow and soaked the pilot. When water went over the deck, some leaked in the mast step and down the pole in the cabin. WhenI was down below, I could watch it flow like a little stream. We had these conditions for so long, by the time we got to port, many gallons of water could be heard sloshing in the bilge.

[Jeff S]

In the Pamlico Sound we went from glass calm to 4-6 waves with whitecaps that were spaced very close together. The bow was plunging through every other wave and breaking over the deck as the bow submarined under water. The boat would shudder. The crew (wife and 3 kids, including an 8 month old) were all getting sick down below. Of course no land in sight. The boat held up. I had no dodger so I was soaked at the helm trying to manage as best I could. It was pretty miserable, especially with the kids and wife being sick. I was fine and the boat was fine- I definitely learned a lesson on taking my family out in anything other than good weather.

Jeff S

[Jack O'Brien]

Three of us Conch Cruisers with Xs went to the Dry Tortugas last October. The last leg home was Key West to 7-mile Bridge going ENE up the Hawk Channel about 40 miles, inside the reef. The wind was on the nose so we motored. As I sat on two cushions at the helm there were lots of waves higher than my head I couldn't see over. Even with the dodger the spray was bothersome. I wore a clear, plastic full-face shield and a billed, hooded, storm coat that helped a lot. We made the trip without incident - except for my Ooogah horn which fell off its mounting on the mast at the spreaders and bounced off the cabin roof into the sea. This was my last trip with the Detmar steering and the cable was so frozen I was afraid to force the wheel to turn until a wave would put enough pressure on the rudders to help move them. The SportPilot was smarter than I as it quit before this on this trip.

Following is a portion of Rick's recording of this leg. He was crewing on Luke's boat.

Day 10
This would be our last day on the water, as we were heading for Ohio Key, where we left from. The wind was blowing about 20 knots from the east-northeast. .... The southern route wasn't much better, but we felt that if we could stay close enough to the islands, they could provide some protection from the wind. This would also mean sailing past Ohio Key to the Seven Mile Bridge, then crossing over and back the four miles or so to the marina. We chose the southern route. The trip out of the harbor and south past Key West was smooth, since the wind and waves were blocked, but as soon as we got to the point where we had to turn east, the fun began. We were pounding into 4-5 foot waves, the wind dead on the bow. Billy and Jack have dodgers, so they weren't getting soaked like we were. The boat would climb up a wave, then drop off
into the trough between, pounding the bow into the next wave, with sheets of water flying up and past the boat, soaking us to the skin. I wore a baseball hat, so I could tip my head down when the splash came, attempting to keep the water out of my eyes. Luke and I took turns at the wheel, since it was work. He had to take his glasses off because he couldn't see anything through them anyway......

[Catigale]

I got caught on the Hudson in Thunderstorms in May 2004. Had a great day sailing all day, went down to Athens, got supper, on the way back was watching Storms off to port when my sailing companion said "Uh oh"

Over our shoulders on the starboard side was a huge thunderhead.

Wind was >30 but not much waves as it was blowing across the river luckily.

Visibility went to 2-3 boat lengths, and we were in the shipping channel. We circled a buoy tight for about 20 minutes thinking we would know where we are, and freightors clear the buoys by 100 feet typically.

In a storm lull, we kicked up Bigfoot and ran to a local Yacht club at 15 mph, docked in, and let it blow iteself out for 2 hours.

Lesson

Scan sky for 360 degrees and dont get fixated with one system