We have been sailing beautifully after departing from Mauritius, heading
for the Southern Ocean in a south easterly direction. One day just flowing
into the next, and before we knew it was 28/10 and Geoff's 50th birthday
was upon us. Marina prepared an extra special breakfast, lunch and salad
and also baked a birthday cake. We celebrated and sang happy birthday to
you, and the mood on the boat was jovial. Long strips of cirrus clouds also
appeared above us, and as the night set in, so did the rain as the cold
front was catching up with us. Further down south the eye of the storm was
watching and winking at us. For safety's sake we only had 2nd reef in the
main and genoa sails, and were slowing down quite a bit, expecting stronger
winds which did not come through immediately.
The first sign of something big coming our way was a set of swells that
rolled through under us every now and then. Gently the stronger winds
settled in, not exploding on us as it sometimes does when a squall hits
you. Our weather predictions showed only 25kts of wind and 4.6mtr waves,
but from experience we always times 1 and a half of what is predicted. We
kept to our south easterly course for a while, but as the wind and the
waves grew, we started bearing of bit by bit, and soon we were running east
keeping the wind and waves at safe angle. Starting of in our power zone,
which on catamarans is round about 75 degrees to the wind, it places a lot
of pressure on the rigging. It can take a lot of pressure, but the sea
state can double he pressure as the boat is tossed about in a big seas. And
big the seas did get. Over 7 meter waves were coming through in sets of
three. These waves were coming from where the storm was really raging
further down south. The average ceiling height in a house is 2.4 meters,
times that by three and you will get an idea of size waves we had. Some of
them foaming and breaking over the tops, no ways we want to run sideways up
these monsters. The wind speed topped at about 40 kts, which is just over
70 km/p/hr. Further down south the wind was peaking at 65kts, over 120
km/p/hr.
I get nervous when the sea gets like this. Can't sleep, my stomach stays in
a knot which tightens every time we surf down a big wave, or a big wave
brakes over us. One has a few options when it gets rough like this; face
into it using your motors, run with it, or heave to. Heaving to is a
somewhat magical way of using a bit of main and head sail to work against
each other and keeping the boat at nearly stationary. More for really
extreme conditions. There are pro's and con's to every storm tactic, and we
normally try to run with it, using less and less sail, and placing the
angle of the wind more and more behind you. The ocean dictates what she
wants, and you either oblige or you get wiped out, simple as that. The
beauty of the Maverick named Island Home we are on, is that besides feeling
solid like a rock, she also has a third reef in the main sail. Which means
you can balance the boat perfectly by deploying the small area of mainsail
and add a bit of genoa as conditions dictate. That way the momentum of the
yacht is spreaded and therefore more balanced. Without a third reef you would
just use the genoa, and all the power would be on the bow.It instils a lot of
confidence in your yacht's performance under strong conditions. If you surf
down the waves too fast you get broach, or go head over heel. If you go too
slow, you stall in the trough of the wave and the following waves crashes
over you. The nautical term for that is getting pooped. Anyways, as the wind
speed increased, we were bearing off more and more, and eventually were
sailing with the wind at a 150 degree angle from behind and just the main in
third reef.
The really serious storms I have encountered I can count on one hand, and
having logged more than 200 000nm across the oceans of the world, says a lot
about really big storms at sea. The circumference of planet earth is 22000nm
along the equator, which means I am on my way to having nearly gone around
ten times. When I do get trapped in these huge storms, it becomes a matter of
survival, and I essentially become an animal. Aggression, cursing and
swearing, instinctively you fight with every grain of strength you have. When
you are on the edge of the edge, there is no room for fear. The saving grace
is the only constant factor I know, and that is that things will change. The
storm will abate, just hang in there :), and hope that you are strong enough
both physically and mentally. Physically strong becomes natural when the
adrenalin is pumping, mentally strong comes from somewhere else. As long as
you have a reason to live, you will be mentally strong. I normally visualize
my princess at home waiting for her daddy, and come hell or high water, I
will come home. For her, for my family, for my friends. By far the biggest
part of sailing is pure bliss.
Fortunately the storm we had on Island Home was not even close to being
severe, although it was strong enough to keep me awake for two days. I have a
family on board that trust me to get them to the other side alive, and that
is exactly what I will do. I have unlimited respect for the ocean and all her
moods, and I stay humbly in submission to her will. I am part of the big blue
out here, and at times I am just a piece of flotsam trying to stay afloat. I
have never shed a tear during a violent storm, it is the rainbows afterwards
that brings a tear to my eyes. I hope you have something worth living for,
something worth fighting for. Without that I would be lost.
No comments:
Post a Comment