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I can picture a leeward rail just kissing the salt water as the full sails pull a handsome sloop through the rolling main. Everyone wants to sail a pleasant breeze on a warm sunny day. Add a beverage of your choice and a scantily clad woman sunbathing on the foredeck and you've got the makings of a pretty good day of boating. But not every day can be that way. Some days can turn on you. Stinging rain and dangerous winds can whiten the knuckles of even the most experienced skipper — let alone clear the decks of any women in bathing suits. Yup, heavy weather can be a problem. But heavy weather is a problem that's been addressed by numerous other authors and pundits. Everyone knows what to do during heavy weather. Tuck a reef, drop a sail, batten a hatchÉnothing to it. But what do you do when things really hit the fan? How do you handle severe weather? First, let's define severe weather. Have you ever watched "The Weather Channel"? You've got your clear areas, and then you've got your rain clouds. Along with the rain clouds are funny little yellow boxes that keep popping up. These yellow boxes indicate areas that are designated by NOAA as the "You May Be Screwed" (YMBS) zones. If you find yourself in one of those YMBS zones you stand a very good chance of experiencing the heartbreak of psoriasis, flaming athlete's foot, sudden diarrhea with cramps, and/or some sort of really bad weather. But the yellow boxes are nothing. It's the red boxes you need to watch out for. The red boxes outline the official US Government certified "Kiss Your Butt Goodbye" (KYBG) zones. What goes on in the red boxes is what I like to call""severe weather". Weather of a biblical, apocalyptic, end-of-humanity scale. The kind of weather that isn't covered in the books. Should you go sailing in the KYBG zones? It depends. First and most importantly, the red KYBG zones are most frequently over the Great Plains. Now the Great Plains consist primarily of dirt — and that doesn't make for very good sailing (unless of course you're piloting a "prairie schooner"... and that's a whole different article). But if you can catch a red KYBG zone over open water it can make for some pretty exciting boating. If you're prepared. And so my goal here is to give you the skills and techniques you need to not only survive, but to actually enjoy sailing in severe weather. Let's examine some of the most common forms of severe weather, and the proper ways to handle them: Waterspouts Waterspouts can be intimidating to the uninitiated. But a waterspout is nothing more than a cylindrical wall of water spiraling upward propelled by 175 knot winds. If you just think of them that way, the seamanship required to safely navigate through them becomes obvious. Some less experienced skippers will tell you to attempt to avoid waterspouts. Nonsense. If you have the rare opportunity to tack through the eye of a huge raging funnel of watery death, don't miss it! And tacking is just what is required. You'll find that most waterspouts in the northern hemisphere spin in a counter-clockwise direction. That means you'll want to approach on a port tack, beating as close to the wind as you can. But keep a sharp weather eye, because things will change rapidly. When you first enter the wall of the 'spout, you'll find that the wind shifts quickly from a moderate breeze over the port bow to a hurricane-force blast of green water dead abeam. Be prepared for it by keeping a loose grip on the main sheet. You'll probably want to ease the main as the first few tons of seawater burst over the rail. And don't forget the old adageÉ"one hand for the ship, and one hand for you". It's easy to lose your footing when navigating through Force-25 conditions. Often the more conservative captain will recommend a harness at this time. Once securely inside the wall of the maelstrom, set your sails for a beam reach and steer for the eye. Waterspouts are not very large, and you will generally reach the eye in just a short time. BE CAREFUL! The transition to the eye can be a tricky. As soon as you enter the eye, the wind will suddenly diminish. If you're not quick with the helm, the boat can rock back over to windward from the sudden loss of pressure on the sail. This can be uncomfortable for your guests, and is a mark of 'lubberly boat handling. Inside the eye of the waterspout it's always very calm and relaxing. It's a great time to hoist a cold one and reflect with your crew on the joys of sailing. But don't become too distracted, because in a couple of seconds you'll reach the other wall of the storm. The far wall of the waterspout will slam into your starboard side with the force of a small nuclear detonation. So it's wise to have the sheets and traveler pre-positioned in anticipation of this. If the 175 knot wind pushes the uncontrolled boom over on it's own, it can make an alarming noise and even damage equipment. Sail through the screaming wind, crashing water, and flying debris with a steady hand on the helm, and in a few moments you'll pop out and clear the edge. It can be very misty on the boundary of a waterspout, so foul-weather gear can be a comfort. It's usually best to don your "foulies" before entering the storm, just in case things get wet. As you sail away on a pleasant broad reach, don't forget to glance aft and enjoy the spectacle of one of nature's most powerful events. Tsunamis Tsunamis — also known as "tidal waves""— are a frequent source of disappointment for the severe weather sailor. If you catch a good tsunami out in deep water it will usually pass right under the boat without even a good splash. My advice? If you know a tsunami is approaching, steer your boat into the shallowest water you can and point the bow out to sea. Then just wait for the fun to begin. The first sign of a good tsunami is a rush of water away from shore. A minus 150 foot tide is not uncommon, so have your camera ready. You'll usually see some fascinating underwater features that are rarely visible from the surface. Don't worry too much about the depth of water under your keel. As the sea retreats from the shore, your boat will be carried away from the shoals with an invigorating speed. Trim your sails to take advantage of the relative wind. You'll generally want those sails as tight and flat as possible to keep them from luffing as you zoom offshore at 30 to 40 knots. As you accelerate out to sea, you'll eventually come up on the face of the actual wave. Don't be concerned by it's apparent sizeÉpeople often over-estimate the size of waves. It may seem to be hundreds of feet tall but in fact a tsunami is rarely more than 85 feet above mean sea level. Your bow will start to rise as you first encounter the leading edge of the breaking mountain of water. Alter course slightly to avoid hitting the wave straight on. You'll find you get a more comfortable ride if you take waves on the front quarter, and this can be especially important when approaching a breaking wave the size of a 10-story building. As the deep green/black face of the tremendous wave picks you up, watch your helmsmanship. Don't allow the thousands of tons of collapsing angry water to get behind you or you may lose control of the boat. This is no time for a broach! Ride up the face of the wave, and remember to adjust your sails as you lose the relative wind. You'll need to slowly, steadily ease the sheets as the boat slows near the top of the colossal torrent of heaped-up icy green death. Now here's a little trick that can save you some embarrassment. Just as the boat tops the wave, duck your face behind the dodger. The bow is going to drop onto the backside of the crest, and darn it if it won't throw a bucket of spray right at you if you're not careful. Asteroid Strikes Asteroid strikes can be both beautiful and dramatic. While they are rarely predicted, they are easy to recognize. Look for a long straight brightly-glowing cloud that suddenly appears without warning, followed by a sonic boom loud enough to blow all the portlights right out of your cabin. If you're lucky, you'll be close enough to see the huge cloud rising miles above the surface, forming a delightful white mushroom head as it spreads from the point of impact. Note that these mushroom clouds can trigger unexpected rain squalls, so pack up your lunch and get your gear safely below where it will stay dry. In a couple of minutes your boat will be blasted by a hot supersonic wind, followed by a 300 foot tidal wave. We've already talked about sailing through tsunamis, so the big wave shouldn't be any problem. Just remember that an asteroid strike will generate a much larger wave than your run-of-the-mill tsunami and adjust your speed accordingly. You'll need to keep good way on all the way up the front of the planet-killing swell or you'll lose steerage and have to tack. I probably don't need to tell you that tacking across the wall of a 300 foot breaking wave can be challenging. The supersonic shockwave adds a slightly new element to the techniques required. It's best to take the shockwave directly on the bow with the sails luffing. That way you don't risk breaking a batten or unduly stressing the seams of the sail. Don't worry about losing headway. The shockwave will hit long before the giant wave that will ultimately annihilate all life as we know it. You'll have plenty of time to adjust the sails and build up some speed. Conclusion There are certainly many more types of severe weather. Raining toads, fire, and/or blood; the sudden appearance of volcanic islands under your keel; and ship-devouring whirlpools, just to name a few. They all offer opportunities for unusual and enjoyable sailing experiences. As with most things, all you need is a little basic understanding of the phenomenon, and the knowledge that comes from the experience of those that have faced these challenges. ...back to 48° North title page |