Squalls

I could see the first squall coming.  It was a characteristic tall black cloud with rain below it.  They’re tall because of the vertical air movement within them, but we can do science later.  Our weather router has advised us to aim west of these squalls because they are moving NE and will cross in front of us.  This one seemed to have a trail of followers so I tried to race it.  And lost. The rain on the water created a misty layer and gave the water a grey quality.  On my skin it felt like hail.  I had too much sail out so tried to run (go downwind) with the storm in which direction the apparent wind, the wind that I feel, is less.  Once things were under control I was able to think of the weatherman’s advice and steered my way out of it. For some reason behind the storm the water was a vivid blue. And my bed was soaked.

The second squall was at night.  My radar picked it up 4 miles away as a red blob ahead.  It looked like it was going to pass.  Trouble was more red blobs kept materializing.  Pretty soon I was boxed in.  I had  already put in my third reef which reduced the size of my mainsail as small as it could go.  The sail was flat and the traveler was down.  Unfortunately I still had the genoa up.  The Solent, my midsized head sail, had been up earlier but the halyard was chafing at the top (something which I knew to check on because it has happened before).  I had not put up the stay sail (next smaller sail) because I was still feeling weak and dehydrated from diarrhea that had kept me up the night before.  So I furled the genoa several more turns.  I don’t like to reef by furling because it distorts the sail and reduces performance, but at this point i just need to reduce sail are quickly.  I did not go as far as I should have.  As the winds started to pick up I sat below, looking out the companionway.  The winds peaked at 44kts.  And remember that wind strength increases by the square of its velocity, so 44 kts is four times stronger than 22kts.  And a kt is 1.1mph.  If i could have spared a hand I would have videoed waves on the low side washing into the cockpit.  The boat is creaking and moaning.  I’m all geared up but I’m not going out there.  First of all I’m not sure I’d be able to bring in more sail without breaking something.  Second, if I try to steer the boat downwind I could lose control of things and make things worse.  And it simply looks scary out there.  But at a break in the wind, meaning a dip below 30kts, I went out, clipped in (secured to the boat via a tether) did what i could and hurried back to shelter.

With the sail reduced I just sat below with Tolkien. From where I read I could peak at a monitor with wind speed, the boat’s relative position to the wind and the boat’s compass heading.  Periodically she’d land off a wave with a bang and a shudder would go through the hull.  Until i disconnected it the propane alarm kept goin off, telling me my sensor has been flooded.  And of course the radar would set off alarms about the next one coming.

The Calms

The calms are worse than the storms.  Without wind, my sails have nothing to lean against. The movement is random and unpredictable as ocean swells, today from two different directions, toss me around.  The boat rolls from side to side, she pitches forward and back, the bow yaws from side to side.  She also heaves up and down, surges forward and sways side to side.  The force of the waves is relentless.  Mother Nature is as unforgiving as ever.  

Before I took the sails down the random movement of the boat created its own wind upon them. As much as I tried to keep them full with the little wind still present, the rolling of the boat created stronger wind.  The boom would swing from side to side and bang when it reached the limit of the main sheet.  The genoa would collapse as it rolled with the wind and then fill with a clap as the boat rolled back.  It felt like nature was taking a hammer to the boat, trying to tear it apart.  

Eventually the purist in me decides the sail has to come down and its time to motor.  At this point, however, I’m frustrated and when I start the engine i flip on the autopilot, forgetting that I also have the windvane engaged.  A creaking in the steering alerts me that these two powerful mechanisms are fighting to control the rudder.  That battle would not have ended well.  

At least in a storm I would have every tool imaginable to control the power in the sails and the movement of the boat.  Now I have one — the motor.  Its loud and it vibrates the boat, but the forward thrust at least stabilizes one degree of motion.  And its not like I have much choice.  There is a storm coming in two days and I have to travel 250 miles to get out of its way so I have to average 5mph.  

Bon Voyage

Good morning from the good ship Gryphon.  I seem to have had a fast first night given that a catamaran who was 2 miles ahead of me is now 6 miles behind.  The view as I ascended the companionway this morning was fantastic with the grey-blue of the ocean, a light blue sky and the orange of the sun not yet over the horizon.  The vastness is humbling. 

The one eventful thing during the night was that my wind vane came untied from the steering wheel.  When this occurred the boat headed up slightly and the sails began to flog.  Part of the art of steering with the wind vane is to have the sails balanced so that the forces on the sails keep the boat in a straight line without much rudder correction.  It was because I had tried to achieve such balance that the boat only headed up 30 degrees and luffed.  She did not tack.  It was a bit cold when I went up to address that issue so I took the short cut and just switched to electronic wind vane (the autopilot steers to a wind direction rather than a compass heading).  I did not go on deck to clean up the lines and this morning from the bathroom window I noticed that the jib sheet was wrapped around a mooring cleat.  

I also have noticed that I tied my second and third reefing lines too far forward on the boom.  I will need to retie those when the boom is closer inboard. The problem is that when I go to put in one of those reefs I will not be able to get the sail flat because I will not be pulling effectively on the clew (the aft corner). Having the sail flat depowers the sail which is the point of reefing. It is not a big fix but I need the boom trimmed closer inboard  I have been on a deep reach all night but the wind is veering (moving clockwise) so I have brought the boom in closer already.

I have made radio contact with Zipporrah this morning.  I have not heard from Yeah Baby since a text at 0115. Currently 48.5nm to my Gulf Stream entry point which is 35° 30’N, 74° 20’W. Making 7-8 kts. Arriving at that waypoint by 1500 Atlantic time would be ideal per our weather router.