2015

Weather Watching

It’s 2015, Debrae, my amazing crew/mate, Thalia and I had sailed from the N tip of Malaysian Borneo, through the Philippines and half way up Japan before jumping off of Honshu for a direct shot to Vancouver Island. Thalia is reentering Canada after 23 yrs, she’s underwhelmed. I don’t think Debrae really knows how many sea miles she’s logged, it’s not important to her, I’d guess in excess of 200,000, well in excess. She’s an unbelievably good sailor. In light air she will invariably get the VMG on the GPS up higher than I can manage. The leg from japan to BC was 39 days, but we hid from gales twice in Japanese fishing harbors, it was over 4,600 mi, the sea water temperatures were 50 degrees f, the interior temperature inside Thalia hovered around 55 degrees f, usually we could see our breath. It was almost always overcast and often foggy and drizzling. When the sun came out, rarely, we rushed up on deck fully clothed and tried to absorb some warmth. Once we cleared the Japanese fishing fleets, there was nothing, we turned off the radar and stopped keeping watch, we saw 2 ships in over 4,000 mi. If you’re getting the impression that this passage sucked, then I am communicating successfully.

From Vancouver island Debrae had to resume her life in Penobscot Bay, Maine, she had a huge advantage, she’s used to the cold. I took Thalia from Vancouver Island to Port Angeles, Wa, then to Port Townsend, Wa, to repower Thalia. From Vancouver Island I’d ordered a rebuilt Yanmar 24 hp continuous to replace the 20 hp continuous that I had already rebuilt myself twice, I swore there wouldn’t be a third, besides I wanted the extra 4 hp. Now that doesn’t sound like a lot but to the underpowered Thalia it’s 20% more.

I’d been out of North America so long I’d forgotten about the existence of VHF weather channels, apparently they’d been forecasting hurricane force winds for the whole Pacific NW for at least 2 days, my multiday old grib file via Pactor was obsolete. I anchored in Port Townsend Fri night a good ways off the marina breakwater in 35’ of water and close to 200’ of chain out. By 10 am it was obvious that something bad was happening, the marina breakwater is composed of large rocks and it’s about 3 boat lengths off my stern. I tried to up anchor and move but the Delta 55 lb was too well dug in for Thalia’s engine in the conditions, so I floored Thalia and set the autopilot for what I hoped would give me a nice V for the 2nd anchor, a 44 lb Bruce on chain/rode. Anchor down, engine in neutral, adjust lines and damn, I got a perfect V. I’ve always preferred being lucky to being good. Plus the marina rocks were now 4 boat lengths away. My wind instrument was long dead and if it’d worked would have scared me badly. The people on the marina breakwater were getting wet, but seemed to be enjoying themselves none the less watching me struggle so close to the rocks, I suppose they were forming a pool on what time Thalia and I would hit the rocks.

By noon the wind was still building, I thought about listening to the weather channel, yes, I’d remembered by now, but the possibility of bad news was offputting, we had 5 mi of fetch across the sound and the waves were big enough that the dinghy, still in davits, I’d motored there in calms on Fri, was slamming her bottom as Thalia hobby horsed helplessly. I was apologizing to Thalia pretty constantly now for putting her in this position and telling her what a good boat she’d been all these years. In between apologies I was composing what I’d say to her when we went ashore, I’d already seen 2 boats hit the beach and I knew I wouldn’t be hitting a beach

At 1430 it’s peaked and a 40’ sloop came screaming across from the other side somewhere with an odd crabbing motion, she was on a weird broad reach, doing close to 5 kts with no sail set, no one aboard and no ground tackle in evidence and damned if she doesn’t appear to be heading for Thalia and I. Compass/collision bearings say it’s going to be close, really close, I’m certainly in no position to move, but I start the engine anyway, I mean we’d gotten this far, but to be taken out by an unattended boat? It’s not fair. The sloop hit the breakwater 2 boat lengths off our starboard quarter down the breakwater, the sound of tortured fiberglass wasn’t pretty. I was soaked anyway so it was impossible to tell if I’d wet myself or not, at least I was sure I hadn’t s**t myself.

By 1630 the wind was visibly slackening and a rescue vessel came out, put a diver in the water and they got a line on the sloop and started pulling her off the rocks, she was settling in the water and sank gracefully 200’ off my port bow. As they circled to recover diver and line I yelled “What’s happening with the weather, do you have an update?” “It’s over,” came the response “What the f##k are you doing here, don’t you watch the weather?” I do now.

In the morning I pulled up the Bruce first, I’d broken the galvanized eye at the chain/rode juncture, getting the Delta up took several unsuccessful attempts, until throwing caution to the wind I let out 60’ of chain and floored Thalia, when the chain pulled tight I thought I’d torn the bow roller off her, but the anchor broke loose. Man, I still have nightmares about that day, I got so lucky.

If I’m lyin’, I’m dyin’. (Clete Purcell, James lee Burke, Robichaux crime novels)