It’s appropriate for reflection on sailors discussing the weather to start with a bar joke.

An ol’ salt swaggers into a bar.
He has a ship’s wheel stuffed into the front of his trousers.
The bartender says, “Hey, you’ve got a ship’s wheel in your trousers!”
The ol’ salt says, “Aye, mate, and it’s driving me nuts!”

Two sailors did saunter into a bar, taking stools not far from where Jamie and I recently tucked into our lunch in Newport, Rhode Island. We were on break from teaching at the Confident Cruiser Seminar Series at the Newport International Boat Show, refueling ourselves for the afternoon, and…well, we were inadvertently eavesdropping, to be honest. 

The sailors, so marked by the faded-pink Block Island Race Week cap and duct-taped Sperrys, leaned on the bar to trade war stories, somewhat loudly. We heard about being tossed around in storms at sea, of plowing a furrow down the ditch that is the ICW. There may have been mention of pirates, but a weather update about Hurricane Lee was broadcast on the TV behind them. The sailors scoffed: “Ha! So much hype, but we had a bigger windstorm a couple of weeks ago. These weather presenters, they have one job but can’t seem to figure it out.”

It’s fair enough to say that the media hype leading up to Lee was, well, unsurprisingly full of media hype. But at some point not long before this bar-leaning narrative, it was possible Newport would get whacked by the storm. Thankfully, what might have been a boat-show-ending event shifted farther east, so Newport had a little rain and wind.

Q: How do hurricanes see?
A: With one eye!

Were these sailors right to blame the forecaster? It’s an easy chuckle, as critic in hindsight. And naive or at least overly simplistic. It’s easy to take weather forecasts at face value when the immediate safety doesn’t depend on it. Sailors on the water, with capacity to travel at only 6 or 7 knots to get out of harm’s way, by necessity must be more serious weather followers and students of weather. Lee’s traverse up the East Coast was a long process. If you were in the possible path, there was much time to move to a safer location and prepare. 

How long was Lee tracked? Take this excerpt from an Atlantic storm-season newsletter: 

“We first started talking about Lee as it was about to become Invest 95L back in the closing days of August while Idalia was readying to impact Florida. When we say hurricane season is a marathon, not a sprint, this is what we mean.” 

They’re talking about three weeks of tracking. Three. Weeks. (From The Eyewall’s “Au Lee-voir” email from September 17th.)

A piece of rope walks into a bar. The bartender says: “We don’t serve your kind.”

The rope goes outside, bends around into a pretzel, pulls a few strands, then walks back in. 

The bartender says, “Weren’t you just in here?”

The rope replies, “Nope, I’m a frayed knot.”

Looking back, the early forecasts for Lee turned out to be remarkably close to the actual path toward New England more than a week later. Before then, when the system was barreling toward the Bahamas and Florida, both of which with more than enough hurricane history, forecasters correctly predicted that Lee would turn north before impacting them. GFS ensemble shook out as more accurate (compared with ECMWF) on long-term accuracy of the track and timing for landfall, although both were quite similar. On the morning of September 8, Jamie posted this to our coaching client group:

Jamie commented with this post of the models: Cat 5 MAJOR Hurricane Lee is currently east of the Caribbean. The image is showing forecast size/place in 7 days. It is too early to tell what action, if any, North East coast sailors should take—stay tuned as we’ll have a better sense in the next few days.” Notes below reference changing status of the Bermuda high/low pressure systems crossing North America, and another named storm (Margot) farther east of Lee complicates forecasting but that sailors north of Cape Hatteras need to pay attention.

Models aren’t perfectly accurate with hurricanes; they can always surprise us (like Hurricane Ian did last year, with a last-minute gyration that landed it over Fort Meyers instead Tampa/St. Pete). But the variability is consistently less. The accuracy is there in broad strokes enough to enable preparation; enough that we—the greater we, of boaters in a storm-affected region—can make good choices. About whether to move out of the way, or to haul out, or to prepare a boat as needed when you have nine, eight, seven days of lead time. 

Lee’s path had two main drivers: the stationary Bermuda high, and a low-pressure system over Canada and moving west to east. The high kept Lee from bending north sooner, but once past it, the expected dogleg north happened. Then the path northward could’ve been a direct hit in Newport if the low moved faster and passed ahead of Lee. Or Lee could be steered east and away from land if the low was slower-moving. These both were predicted as possible outcomes, and the latter outcome happened, sparing eastern New England.

Q: Why do Swedish warships have bar codes on the side of their vessels?

A: So that when the ships come back into port, they can Scandinavian!

Back to our salties at the bar. At one point, it appeared that Newport could be a direct hit for the storm. Those older nightly news segments are probably what our two sailors were reliving over wings and fries because subsequent updates made this progressively less likely. The irony of sportscasters arguing over the stats and probabilities of the Saturday college game now playing on that TV behind the bar was not lost on us. Playing armchair quarterback, er, weatherman is common enough among sailors, as are weather war stories painted in colorful hues. It can be fun to indulge in storytelling. It is also astonishing how well weather is forecast today compared with five, 10, 15 or more years ago. It does require paying attention.

Join Us in Chesapeake BayJamie and I are excited to be heading to the U.S. East Coast very soon. This weekend, we’ll be at the Seven Seas Cruising Association’s Chesapeake GAM on Saturday, September 30. Then it’s on to the big event, the 2023 Annapolis Boat Show and Cruiser’s University! We’ll be teaching daily at Cruisers U, from masterclasses and all-day courses to shorter seminars that help people go happily, safely cruising. Jamie and I also will lead the classroom portion of “Take the Wheel,” the boat show’s introduction for folks who want to get into boating more seriously. See annapolisboatshows.com for details.

The post Sailing Totem: Tall Tales and Weather Stories appeared first on Cruising World.

It’s hard to believe, but it’s been a solid three decades since the south coast of New England and Rhode Island—including my hometown of Newport—has been slammed with a direct hit by a major hurricane, so you could say we were overdue. Despite the innocuous name, 1991′s Hurricane Bob was a formidable event, making landfall in Newport as a Category III beast with upward wind speeds of nearly 140 miles per hour. It took me a solid couple of days to clean up my mom’s backyard of the downed branches and debris, and we were the lucky ones in our neighborhood.

Our 30-year-old hurricane-free streak ended earlier this week with the well-forecast arrival of Hurricane Henri, which came ashore at roughly midday on Sunday, August 22, this time in the seaside town of Westerly (hello summer resident Taylor Swift!), right on the Connecticut border. Happily, it was a Category I storm, and was quickly downgraded to tropical-storm status about the same moment it reached Interstate 95. There was little of the drama that accompanied Bob, but it did wreak its quick share of unwanted havoc.

Henri had plenty of advance warning, and local sailors, perhaps remindful of Bob’s bite, quickly went into action. All of the immediate boatyards were bombarded with anxious mariners eager to haul their boats. My colleague Ted Ruegg had his Grand Soleil 34, Grand Plan, parked on a commercial mooring in Newport Harbor and was told unceremoniously that he had to get lost. Immediately. All the familiar local anchorages, including the Kickemuit River in nearby Bristol, filled up rapidly, mostly by on-the-move cruising sailors who were forced by the Newport harbor master to also vacate the premises: no anchoring allowed. It took Ted no less than 18 phone calls—and 17 rejections—before he finally found an available slip in nearby Wickford, across Narragansett Bay.

With a track to the west of Newport, we were largely spared from Henri’s wrath, and the major rainfall—which would cream New York City later in the day—was over and done with locally by mid-morning. That said, the nearby buoy reports from Point Judith and up the bay were recording formidable gusts of near 70 knots. Still, by mid-afternoon, things had moderated to the point that Ted and I ventured out to check on our respective boats; my little Pearson Ensign, visible from Fort Adams on its well-protected mooring in Brenton Cove, came through unscathed.

Matters were much different in the town of Jamestown, across the Newport Bridge, which was immediately clear as we crossed the span en route to Ted’s marina in Wickford and had a glance at the shoreline, which was littered with vessels. After a quick inspection of Grand Plan—which was also just fine, nestled in a very protected slip—we made a detour in Jamestown on our return trip to inspect the carnage.

Exposed to the northeast, with a fetch from Newport across the bay, Jamestown’s mooring field took the brunt of Henri’s might. A half-dozen sailboats were scattered along the coastline, with another casualty a few miles north in another open anchorage adjacent to the bridge. The town’s residents were out in force, also checking out the mess, and several of the grounded vessels were still attached to the mooring-ball warps that had clearly failed and sealed their fate. Not a pretty scene.

All in all, however, on one hand it felt like a bullet dodged. On the other, I reckon, when it comes to big hurricanes, we’re still overdue.

The post Hurricane Henri Pays a Visit to Newport appeared first on Cruising World.

What do you do if there’s a major hurricane, Category 3 or above, bearing down on your boat? Surviving the storm involves a certain amount of luck, but you can substantially up your odds with good preparation. We’ve ­taken two major hits, from Hurricane Irma this past year in the Florida Keys and Marty in 2003 in the Sea of Cortez, and have been within 50 miles of the eye of four other storms. Those experiences taught us many things, with these 10 being the most important.

1. Check Your Insurance

Double-check your insurance policy for required preparation for a ­major hurricane. Also, reread the hurricane plan you filed, stating how you would ­prepare. Should a claim be necessary, you’ll have to prove you fulfilled your obligations. Be sure to take your policy with you if you evacuate.

2. Remove Sails

Sails must come down for any hurricane, doubly so for a major one. Tying off a roller-furled sail (genoa or main) is simply not sufficient against hurricane-force winds, which will tug at the exposed edges of the sail and pull out a little pocket — first 6 inches, then 12. It doesn’t seem like much, but when winds are 70, 100 or 130 knots, that’s enough sail area to put substantial pressure on your lines and ground tackle.

Your sail will shred, but that’s not the worst part. During Hurricane Marty, which my husband, Dave, and I rode out in La Paz, Mexico, with our Tayana 37, marina docks were pulled apart by “sailing” boats, which then crashed into other boats and docks, pulling them free as well. In other storms, we’ve seen cleats ripped out of docks and from boat decks due to the force of the wind on just a scrap of unwound sail. Boats on the hard have been toppled or flipped, creating a chain reaction.

Additionally, most insurance policies will not pay out if sails are left on. Getting sails off is arguably the most important thing you can do to help your boat survive the storm.

3. Strip the Decks

Reducing windage is key to reducing the stresses on your lines, mooring, anchors or, if on the hard, jack stands. Removing sails is the first and biggest part of this, but it’s also ­important to get everything else inside the saloon or off the boat that you can. Bimini, dodger, flags, grill, decorative lights, MOB devices, port covers, cockpit cushions — it all adds up to increased windage, not to ­mention that these items would likely be lost during a storm, or possibly become a damaging flying projectile.

Find a secure place inside the boat or ashore for the dinghy; davits are about the worst possible place because the tender will catch wind, act as a good-size sail and possibly rip the davits off.

4. Run the Lines

Having new lines of the right size and type is critical. Whether it’s dock lines, mooring lines or anchor snubbers, if your boat is in the water, the lines are the only thing keeping it in place.

In Hurricane Irma, our present boat, a Gemini catamaran, was one of only a few moored in Boot Key Harbor, in the Florida Keys, with literally zero damage. We think it was roughly 50 percent luck because no other boats careened into us, but the other 50 percent was our prep, and part of that was our brand-spanking-new lines.

The boat right beside us, which did not put new lines on, broke free from its mooring and was a total loss. After the storm, I pulled up its mooring pennant with the remains of its mooring lines on it. Every single one had simply broken in the middle (not at a chafe point). Sunlight, stretching, chafe and salt all take a toll on the fibers with even a few months’ use, weakening the line and lessening its ability to stretch and absorb shock. Only one mooring failed in Boot Key Harbor, but 172 boats broke free of moorings.

Don’t use over-size low-stretch lines for a storm. Lines need to be able to stretch to take the shock that waves and wind gusts will generate. Undersize lines can part from the shock loads, but oversize lines that don’t stretch will pull cleats and other attachment points out.

We find that nylon three-strand rope is the best combination of strength, stretch and abrasion resistance. We use one size larger than our ­everyday lines as a compromise between the need for elasticity and strength. (On our 34-foot Gemini, our everyday lines are ½-inch, and we used 5/8-inch for Irma.)

5. Rig Chafe Gear

The other part of the line equation is protecting them from chafe. Fire hose is the chafe gear of choice. Fire departments are required to periodically replace hoses and generally give the old hose away for free if you ask.

Cut pieces about 10 inches long. Make a small hole about an inch from one end, pass the line through the hose and then use a piece of light line through the hole you made to tie the fire hose to the cleat, stanchion or dock. Don’t tie the chafe gear to the line, despite what many books say. If you tie it to the line, it will not stay in the right place as the line stretches during the storm.

Use as many lines as possible, going to different attachment points on both ends. If one anchor, cleat, piling or dock section fails, you want something else holding your boat. Any long tails on lines should be tied off so that they don’t become damaging whips during the storm.

6. Shut Down Systems

Disconnect from shore power. Hurricanes and electricity are a bad combination. Close seacocks other than for bilge pumps and engine (if you plan to leave the keys in the ignition).

Turn off and clean out the refrigerator. You don’t want the refrigerator to drain batteries that might be needed for bilge pumps.

We made a conscious­ decision to tie our solar panel in place for Hurricane Irma instead of removing it, ­realizing there was a good chance we’d lose it in the storm (we didn’t). Dave and I were evacuating five days before the storm was forecast to arrive, and we wanted our batteries to stay fully charged to power the bilge pumps if needed.

7. Take Photos

Thoroughly document your hurricane prep in case you have to make an insurance or Federal Emergency Management Agency claim to show that you followed your hurricane plan.

Don’t take just a few photos; take 50 to 100 detailed photos of how and where every line is attached and protected from chafe, as well as overall shots showing that the sails are off and the decks stripped as well as the general configuration of lines. Be sure to take these with you!

8. Help Your Neighbors

Part of surviving a hurricane is not having another boat slam into yours. While location plays some role in this, don’t rely on luck alone. Having well-prepared boats around you is key. Once your boat is ready, see if any of your neighbors need a helping hand.

We have been told that most of the damage to boats in Boot Key Harbor during Irma was caused by one large boat that broke free, slammed into docks and broke those free, and then this whole mess of boats and docks started hitting other boats and breaking them free. In Hurricane Marty in La Paz, a few boats that had left roller-furling jibs on led to the destruction of most of one marina. Your boat is only as safe as the boats around it.

9. Lock Your Boat — or Not

Should you lock your boat when you leave it? There are pros and cons, so it’s a personal decision. We did not lock Barefoot Gal when we evacuated for Irma, knowing that she could be looted while we were gone. We also left the keys in the ignition in case she broke free and needed to (and could) be moved.

Dave and I figured that if Barefoot Gal was damaged, someone might try to come aboard to save her. Another boat in the harbor was lost before the storm when good Samaritans couldn’t get inside quickly enough to stop her from sinking. Or someone might have needed tools, food or even a place to sleep. We decided that the potential reward of leaving the boat unlocked, both for us and others in the community, far outweighed any additional risk since we were already at ­serious risk of losing her.

10. Evacuate Early

Above all else, get yourself, your family and pets to a safe place. Much as it pains me to say it, boats are things. Don’t risk your life trying to protect yours. Evacuate early, particularly if you will have to use public transportation. Expect significant delays.

The first step in hurricane recovery is to survive the storm so that you can recover from it.

The Unseen Post-storm Danger

Unfortunately, major hurricanes result in sunken and wrecked boats littering the water, along with building debris. Some dangers are obvious, such as broken masts, tangled rigging and boards with nails protruding.

Less obvious is the fact that all the destroyed boats have severely polluted the water with diesel, gas, oil, holding-tank contents, battery acid, engine coolant and every other liquid aboard the boat.

Skin cuts and abrasions that contact the water can quickly become infected; treat them immediately with antibiotic ointment and seek medical help at the first sign of infection. If you get in the water to secure or refloat a boat, take extreme care not to swallow water or get it in your eyes or lungs. Again, seek medical attention immediately if you do, before you have any symptoms of a problem.

One friend of ours, preparing his sunken boat to be raised after Hurricane Irma, had a near-drowning experience and ended up on life support for six days due to the diesel fuel and other things coating his lungs. Fortunately, he made a full recovery. Almost all divers in Boot Key Harbor had respiratory infections that required medical treatment after the storm.

Carolyn Shearlock has cruised for 10 years, in two different stints, in hurricane-prone waters. In 2017, her boat survived a direct hit by Category 4 Hurricane Irma in the Florida Keys. While she might be best known for her website, theboatgalley.com, and its related podcast and books, she got her start writing for ­Cruising World in 2003 with lessons learned from surviving Hurricane Marty.

The post 10 Tips to Prepare Your Boat for a Hurricane appeared first on Cruising World.

For as long as there have been cruisers, there have been snowbirds — those who sail south toward the tropics for winter, and back north again for summer. Good common sense motivates the migration, but so too do the mandates of insurance companies. Yacht-insurance policies have traditionally set latitude limits connected to the calendar, particularly around hurricane season: the policyholder agrees to move the boat north of some agreed-upon boundary line by June 1 or July 1 each year.

On the U.S. East Coast, that line could be Jacksonville, Florida, or Beaufort, North Carolina, or even Norfolk, Virginia. Some policies propose a latitude “box” that allows cruisers to sail farther south in summer to avoid the greatest hurricane risk: to Grenada or Trinidad or the ABC islands (Aruba, Bonaire, Curaçao). Only after November 1 do these traditional policies allow cruisers back into the box.

But what if you want to stay in the hurricane box for a season or more? What if you want to avoid the time, cost and wear of two annual long-distance deliveries? That’s what we’re here to talk about.

Mythical Hurricane Holes

Of course, there have always been cruisers who stay through the storm season in the focal point of the hurricane zone. Generations of our forebears have passed down to us the names of legendary Caribbean hurricane holes: Ensenada Honda (Culebra), Gorda Sound (Virgin Gorda), Simpson Bay (St. Martin), English Harbour (Antigua), the north-coast rivers on Terre Haute and Terre Basse (Guadeloupe) and Marigot Bay (St. Lucia). The premise is simple: Find an enclosed bay with an entrance narrow enough to keep out the ocean swell. Proceed to the head of a creek, put out two or more good anchors off the stern with a long rode, and nose the bow as far as possible into the mangroves. Create a spiderweb of lines into the branches, then ride it out. Alternatively, find a hurricane hole so well-protected that you can hold out on your anchors alone.

Ensenada Honda in Culebra, midway between St. Thomas and Puerto Rico, was just such a mythical hurricane hole. For decades, its reputation was unmatched. Then came Hurricane Hugo in 1989. Some 200 boats had hustled themselves to Culebra before the first big winds blew. By the time the storm had passed — with sustained winds of 98 mph and gusts over 120 mph measured by the U.S. Navy at nearby Roosevelt Roads — more than 130 boats in Ensenada Honda were destroyed.Likewise, St. Martin’s Simpson Bay: When Hurricane Luis came through in 1995, it destroyed some 900 boats. The mere numbers were staggering, the human details gruesome.

Don Street’s Cruising Guide to the Lesser Antilles, published in 1966, was one of several iconic voices that initially pointed the way into some of these hidy-holes. But the 1989 destruction in Culebra profoundly changed Street’s mind. In an essay called “Reflections on Hugo,” he wrote: “There is no such thing as a hurricane hole in the Eastern Caribbean. They are all too crowded.” It took Street still another decade and a half to gently modify that statement with a strong caveat: “There are some hurricane holes in the Eastern Caribbean that are good holes if they do not get too crowded.”

All of which brings us to the present season. Will the hurricane hole you choose be too crowded when the eye of the storm comes bearing down on you? Will you be among the first boats to commandeer one of the few viable spots in the mangrove creeks? Will some boat come in behind you with high windage and short scope that puts your boat or your life at risk?

The problem with planning to ride out a storm anchored in a hurricane hole is that it leaves too many crucial factors out of your hands. Because that plan relies on an unstable context over which you have zero control, it means putting a little too much faith in hocus-pocus.

Straight Talk on Risk

Shawn Kucharski is the president of Falvey Yacht Insurance, a Rhode Island-based carrier that specializes in insuring recreational boats, luxury yachts and charter fleets in 40 countries.

“There’s realism,” Kucharski says. “We have seen cases where boat owners have taken the time, have tied down, have made sure their pumps are working, whose boats can be in a place where other boats are gone. Realistic insurers know that just because you have a great storm plan, it doesn’t mean you aren’t going to get hit or that you aren’t going to have damage. But if you have done the kind of risk management that’s going to lower that kind of exposure, you’re the type of boat owner we want to insure.”

What’s the difference between the hocus-pocus of blind faith and a realistic approach to risk management?

For starters, to understand past hurricane seasons, the U.S. National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration maintains a terrific website that shows the historical tracks of tropical cyclones. The screen shot on page 72 shows the tracks of all tropical storms or hurricanes in the North Atlantic basin from 1990 through 2016. It’s worth spending some time with this site and setting the filters to understand how tropical cyclones have traveled and behaved in the past.

Note that the colors indicate each storm’s strength on the Saffir-Simpson hurricane wind scale (Categories 1 through 5, with 1 starting at 74 mph and 5 going up from 157 mph).

Even though some yacht policies do exclude the hurricane box through summer and early fall altogether, it is possible to keep your boat fully insured and remain in the box. But it does mean working with insurers who specialize in cruising boats, and it also means preparing well in advance for any big storm.

Most insurers agree that remaining insured in the hurricane box starts with a detailed storm plan from the boat owner. Next comes the quality, technology, and track record of the marinas or boatyards on which that storm plan relies.

Mike Pellerin is the vice president of underwriting for BoatUS insurance, which is owned by Geico. BoatUS is so committed to acting on an approved storm plan in partnership with a proven marina, Pellerin says, that it will reimburse boat owners half the cost of their storm haul-out, up to $1,000, in the event of a named storm.

Other insurers have incentives too. Gowrie Group offers specialized insurance packages targeted toward cruising sailors. The Jackline Insurance Program is designed to protect boats and crew traveling throughout the world, including special coverage for Cuba. Gowrie’s Safe Harbor Marinas Insurance Program covers the full cost of hauling your boat “if it’s located in a Watch, Warning, or the 3-Day Track Forecast Cone for a Hurricane or Tropical Storm, as issued by NOAA.”

Your storm plan is the first key to qualifying for most policies. BoatUS offers a good set of generic guidelines on a Web page called Hurricane Preparation for Boaters, Marinas and Yacht Clubs. What insurers want to see from you is a comprehensive description of the steps you intend to take in the event of a storm — and the more detail, the better. The BoatUS Hurricane Preparation Worksheet provides a good start, but your particular circumstances will always merit their own details.

“If you’re an absentee owner,” says Pellerin, “we’ll want to see a contract from a marina or a contractor who will look after the boat in your absence.”

Kucharski agrees. “For us it always comes down to the -old-school, conservative aspect. The safest route if you’re not with the boat is if you have a contractor or crew, even if they’re part-time, someone who can check on the vessel. They don’t necessarily have to move it, just someone to tie it down if a storm is coming, check on pumps, that sort of thing.”

Engineered for Storms

The next most important thing, after your personal storm plan, is the place where you plan to ride out the storm. As risk managers, yacht insurers have access to and experience in interpreting lots of data: decades worth of records that show where past storm damage was concentrated, and where it was mitigated. At the same time, more and more boatyards and marinas in the hurricane zone are developing technology in their physical layout that lessens or eliminates damage in a storm.“The vast majority of the damage that’s done in storms,” says Kucharski, “is from the storm surge — not the wind. We can look back at Sandy in 2012, and we found boats miles inland. The wind’s not taking off even a 30-foot powerboat and moving it inland. It’s the storm surge that’s picking it up.”

For that reason, marinas have been investing heavily in dry racks. “With a strong dry rack that can bring a boat up 8 or 10 feet off the ground, you’re going to be able to weather most storms,” Kucharski says. “Next, if you can take that dry rack and put it inside a warehouse that’s designed to take wind exposure, the insurer will look very favorably on you.” Buildings deemed “cat-­capable” are designed to withstand winds consistent with the Saffir-Simpson categories of ­hurricane-force winds.Of course, dry racks accommodate powerboats far better than sailboats, with their complicated rigs and underbodies. State-of-the-art marinas in storm territory have responded to this challenge with storm cradles and keel pits, as well as eyes embedded in concrete that allow the boatyard to strap the boat down against high winds and surge. Look for these marinas as you plan your trip.

For example, Nanny Cay Marina in Tortola offers seasonal tie-down for a $3,000 fee above the usual haul-out rate. Compare that to the cost of delivery and any reduction in your insurance premium that such a haul-out brings. Puerto del Rey on Puerto Rico’s east coast offers tie-down space for 350 to 450 boats. But be sure to check early and reserve space, if necessary. “This year we’re sold out,” said Jorge Gonzales, sales manager for Puerto del Rey, in early June. “We’re hoping to have an additional 100 to 150 spaces for next year.”

Mike Pellerin commends Jolly Harbour in Antigua for its investment in storm-prep haul-out. “We have boats in cradles on stands that are welded together, and boats in concrete keel pits,” says Jolly Harbour general manager Jo Lucas. “All boats on cradles have extra stands. Our tie-down anchors are set in concrete or have helix anchors set into the ground a minimum of 5 feet. Seventy-five percent of our yard is concrete storage.” Both Kucharski and Pellerin extol Loggerhead marinas in Florida for their storm-prep infrastructure. In addition to those, Kucharski also highlights River Forest Marina and American Custom Yachts, both in Stuart, Florida; Bluepoints Marina in Port Canaveral, Florida; and Marina One in Deerfield, Florida. For in-the-water storage, Kucharski points to City Marina in Charleston, South Carolina, as an example of a company that’s invested in high, surge-proof pilings and robust concrete docks.

As you look to your own cruising plans, have a chat with your insurer; he or she might be able to recommend marinas that have good track records with past storms. In fact, that conversation might help you not only with the places you cruise, but also the timing.

“Talk to your insurer,” says Kucharski. “November 1 is the official end of the hurricane season, and many insurers use that as the date for transit south. So that means marinas in the mid-­Atlantic are chockablock with boats waiting.” Kucharski, ever the risk manager, says, “What’s the worst exposure? Late-season storms are more mid-Atlantic or farther north.” So, he says, tell your insurer: “I don’t want to be sitting with a hundred other boats in this marina just because November 1 is the date.”

Because, says Kucharski, your insurer doesn’t want that either.

– – –

CW editor-at-large Tim Murphy is an independent writer and editor based in Rhode Island.

The post Caribbean Hurricane Holes appeared first on Cruising World.

My wife, Barbara, and I had been cruising the Abacos for three months on Chamba, our 1979 Gulfstar 37, and we weren’t ready to leave. There was still much more to see in the rest of the Bahamas, but as the temperatures climbed, we were reminded that it was now mid-June, and we were into hurricane season. The arrival of summer brought with it massive tropical thunderstorms, dramatic sunsets, impressive lightning displays and unpredictable high winds. Since we’d ruled out sailing home to Padanaram, Massachusetts, we needed a storm plan.

Our options included ­either continuing to cruise, with the aim of getting to a hurricane hole in the event of a tropical storm, or leaving the boat in the water or on the hard while we went home. Continuing to cruise seemed risky — what if the hole was already full when we arrived? We didn’t want to ride out a hurricane on board the boat, so the hurricane hole had to be near shoreside ­facilities. That reduced our ­realistic cruising options.

We could leave the boat in the water, anchored or moored in one of the Abacos’ hurricane holes, but that seemed like a bad idea with too many variables: Who would make that last trip to the boat to snug up the lines? Who would move the boat if necessary?

After sorting through these considerations, we decided to put Chamba on the hard for the rest of the hurricane season. Our boat insurance wasn’t an ­issue. The premium and coverage remained the same ­whether the boat was in the water or hauled out. We had already ­taken the big hit when we left to go cruising, with our premiums nearly doubling to include Florida and the Bahamas.

With our decision made, we now needed to find a yard. Quickly. Barbara and I had visited both Marsh Harbour Boatyards (mhby.com) and Abaco Yacht Services (go-­abacos.com/ays/ays.html) in our travels. Both are modern, professional yards. At AYS, I had noted that they used tie-downs for their boats — heavy nylon straps that attached to what looked like eye bolts in the ground. This feature was the decider for us.

Hurricane-force winds can shake boats resting on jack stands. Sometimes the jack stands work their way out from under the boat, at which point the boat can fall over. If it’s a crowded marina, the fallen boat can hit its neighbor, and down they go, like a row of dominoes. The tie-down straps reduce the movement and greatly help to hold the boat upright.

The tie-downs were screwed into the ground, and the yard itself was paved with asphalt. We thought this was a good idea, as heavy rainfall would tend to run off rather than soak in and soften the ground, thus giving the tie-downs greater holding power.

AYS had other features going for it as well: We were just a short ferry ride to the airport, and we could live aboard on the hard as we prepared the boat. Within 15 minutes of our arrival at AYS, dockhands helped to maneuver Chamba into the 30-ton Travelift and ­slowly raised her out of the ­water. After the jack stands were placed, it was time for the four tie-downs, which attached to the fore and aft cleats. A yard worker took the other end, hooked it onto the padeye on the ground, and ratcheted the straps taut, going diagonally in turn to equalize the tension.

The last thing was to go around the boat and check that each jack stand was at roughly the same pressure against the hull. The yard manager made sure she had emergency contact information and a key to the boat, then away we went. It’s difficult to leave your boat, especially in another country during hurricane season, but we felt confident in our preparations and comfortable with the yard.

Preparing for Hurricane Season

Here are the steps we took to prepare Chamba’s cabin and topsides for hurricane season:

• Interior airflow is key to keeping mold at bay. We lifted all cushions and rested them on their sides, and opened all drawers, lockers and floorboards to get as much air exposure as possible. We also placed packets of desiccant throughout the interior. Upon our return, they were all saturated, but mold and mildew were minimal.
• I shut off the propane at the tank and turned off everything electric except for the bilge pump.
• To reduce windage and protect our gear, we removed the barbecue, radar reflector, sails, bimini and dodger and stowed them below. We lowered the topping lift and firmly tied the boom to the bimini’s frame, with an old life jacket padding the contact point.
• To keep out rain and bugs, we took the cowl vents off the dorade boxes and screwed in the covers, sealed the hawsepipe, and cleaned the gaskets on every hatch and portlight before closing them.
• All running rigging that remained on deck was tightly coiled and securely tied to the mast.

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Good ground tackle, adequate scope and shelter from the storm:

High-quality anchors, rode and snubbers (or bridles for multihulls) should be a given. In the Bahamas, the primary kit of choice is a modern-design hook such as a Rocna or Spade and 150 to 200 feet of quality chain. Anchoring depths in the Exumas are typically around 10 feet, so paying out 100 feet of rode gives a 7:1 or greater scope. A Fortress or Bruce with chain and nylon rode that can be instantly deployed in an emergency is common backup gear. For catamarans, a sturdy bridle is a must and for monohulls, a good snubber. Although some boats that had the right ground tackle still dragged in this storm, many others did not. With the right anchor and rode, properly deployed and set, the odds of staying put increase significantly. Finding the right spot can be a much harder proposition and when severe weather is a possibility, the best anchorages can get dangerously crowded. There are few spots in the Exumas, for example, to protect against westerlies. Considering the uncertainty of the forecast in the days before this system came through, it was worth seeking out the best available shelter, even if it meant an expensive stay in a marina.

If it’s time to move on, don’t wait:

Like the saying about reefing when you first think of it, you should do the same if you’re even slightly uncomfortable with your anchoring spot. Cathy Kreyling on White Bird at George Town readily acknowledges that she and husband Peter “made a critical error” by not moving across the harbor when a wind shift turned the beach into a lee shore. “When the wind started to go west and we saw that crazy sky, we should have said to ourselves ‘even though it’s sunset and we’ve had a rum punch, we need to move now.’” Peter Malloy on Neko advises: “Have a plan to up anchor or drop it and go at a moment’s notice. Have a backup anchor and backup bridle ready to deploy at all times. … Scope out an alternative location ahead of time if you need to ditch.” Getting to a better anchorage early also gives you the best odds of finding (and defending) a good spot once you get there.

Get your motor running:

Nearly everyone interviewed for this story used their engine to try to prevent dragging and dodge other boats that were already dragging. Results varied. Many, like Ken Pimentel on Dream Catcher, report that it proved easy to overdo it: “What I ended up doing was throttling up too far and overriding my anchor and actually closing the gap with the boat ahead of me that was dragging,” he says. Peter Kreyling on White Bird says it was difficult to find the proper speed and the right touch on the helm: “The wind would catch us by the side and I’d do a doughnut. I was really worried about wrapping around the keel,” he says. The general consensus seems to be that motoring into the melee is the right move, but that you should use just enough throttle to check the boat’s strain on the ground tackle. Care must also be taken not to over-steer, lose control and turn beam to.

Secure the dinghy:

Numerous people lost dinghies or saw them turn turtle on the end of their painters. If you have davits and are expecting squally weather, it might be smart to lift the dinghy. Likewise, secure it on deck if that’s the way you normally stow the tender. A decision to put it aboard, however, needs to be weighed against the negative of adding more windage to the boat’s profile. “Lots of dinghies flipped,” says Doug Kisling, who went through the derecho with his wife Karrie at Staniel Cay aboard their Leopard 40 Cay de Cay. “On the radio the next morning, one woman described how her inflatable basically did spins in the air,” he says.

Let there be lights:

Darkness mixed with heavy wind-driven rain made visibility next to nothing in many anchorages. At Staniel Cay, for example, many boats not only switched on anchor lights, but navigation lights and even deck lights. Strictly speaking it might not be legal, but sometimes extreme circumstances call for on-the-spot innovation. “Having the nav lights at eye-level was definitely helpful. It allowed us to judge our position relative to everyone else,” says Doug Kisling on Cay de Cay.

A Q&A with Chris Parker, chief forecaster at Marine Weather Center

Scott Neuman: In simple terms, what is a derecho?

Chris Parker: First, I can’t say for sure the weather event parts of the Bahamas experienced in the late afternoon of January 6, 2016, was a derecho. But multiple independent reports of the event and satellite observations suggest this event met all the criteria to be classified a derecho.

A derecho is essentially ‘a self-sustaining linearly-organized storm.’ A derecho often starts as a series of outflow boundaries/gust fronts extending from squalls/T-storms, advancing ahead of a pool of cold air aloft. Over time, these outflow boundaries/gust fronts can merge into a long line, and be self-sustaining.

To meet the definition of a derecho, the wind event must extend more than 240 miles (from end-to-end), include wind gusts of at least 50 knots, and have several, well-separated 65-knot gusts. Winds are ‘straight line’ in nature (rather than circular like in a tornado or hurricane), and typically blow perpendicular to the motion of the derecho. Winds are supported not by the collapse of towering cumulonimbus clouds (as are typical squalls/T-storms), but rather by the inflow of warm air from ahead of the derecho inward and upward into the pool of cold air aloft behind the derecho … and fast-moving down-rushing air from the cold pool sustains the progressive gust front with the derecho.

Derechos typically form on the equatorial side of the Jet Stream, with strong wind-shear. The leading edge of a derecho is often marked by some sort of a shelf cloud.”

How common are they?

Derechos are rare — especially in moist environments, where inhibiting factors include abundant low-level clouds and less-cool air aloft. In 13 years of forecasting the weather every day for the Bahamas and Caribbean, I have never seen a weather event like this. The most notable recent derecho may be the one that moved from the Ohio Valley through the Mid-Atlantic States on June 29, 2012. Though less common in moist environments, the March 12, 1993 ‘Storm Of The Century’ may have triggered a derecho in parts of the Gulf Of Mexico, Florida, Cuba, Bahamas and adjacent Atlantic waters during the early stages of the storm.

Do you see a link between El Niño either by itself or in combination with rising temperatures (i.e., climate change) as having any link with the derecho?

Certainly the strong sub-tropical Jet Stream, which was in place across Florida and parts of the Bahamas January 6, 2016, supported the wind shear, pool of cold air aloft, and eventual cyclogenesis (formation of a LO), which were important factors leading to the weather event. And the active sub-tropical Jet Stream was likely enhanced by El Niño. I hesitate to link any single weather event to climate change. But I suppose if there were a causal link between climate change and this year’s vigorous El Niño (which I’m not saying there is), then, since El Niño is an important factor supporting the sub-tropical Jet Stream, climate change could be a contributing factor.

Beginning on January 4, 2016, our forecasts mentioned the possibility this LO which formed January 6 night NE of the Bahamas could acquire tropical characteristics. On January 13 the LO became “Alex,” and a day later was Hurricane Alex.

I understand from talking to other cruisers that you had been warning of a potentially dangerous system — although perhaps not as powerful as it turned out to be (correct me if that’s wrong). Can you elaborate?

Our forecasts on January 4 and 5 discussed in detail the uncertainty of the anticipated weather event. Our best-guess forecasts were for 10-knot to 25-knot sustained winds clocking from S to W in direction with a few squalls to 45 to 50knots. So yes, we predicted inclement weather, but it did not seem to us there was a significant risk of severe weather.

What were your thoughts and concerns for cruisers when you realized the potential power of the system?

Most popular anchorages in the Bahamas are well protected from typical easterly trades. Anytime wind blows from a different direction, many anchorages become uncomfortable or even untenable.

But the sorts of preparations a prudent mariner makes for wind from odd directions of 10 to 25 knots with a few squalls to 45 to 50 knots is different from 30 to 60 minutes of 50 to 65-plus-knot winds.

When the first report of strong wind arrived, I assumed it was either isolated or exaggerated. But when multiple contemporaneous reports from many different locations arrived (some with pictures of wind instruments and menacing clouds), I knew there would be lots of damage to vessels.

Can you give some particulars of observed/reported wind speeds, waves, etc. in different locations down the Exumas? What time exactly did the system hit various parts in the cays and how long did it last?

The weather event which occurred January 6, 2016 was:

–documented by ASCAT satellite from 25N/79W-Havana at 10am, with sustained winds averaged over 15km areas of 40k. I believe the feature moved slowly at first, then accelerated E-ward in the afternoon
–moved thru most or all of Eluthera and the Exumas between 6pm to 7pm
–about 300mi from end-to-end, and persisted along a path over 400 miles
–vessel in Rock Sound Eluthera reported W-NW over 30k with gusts to 53k, lasting 60 minutes
–Georgetown Exuma reported 75k
–Cambridge Cay Exuma reported 60-70k sustained and gusts to 106.3k
–Staniel Cay Exuma reported NW wind about 50k for nearly an hour
–reports documented straight-line winds, mostly uniform W-NW wind direction (perpendicular to the squall line)
–visible and enhanced infared satellite imagery documented pool of cold air aloft located behind the squall line
–cloud top temperatures of -30C to -40C alone would support the conditions we predicted – but not the intensity nor duration of the observed wind event
–relatively-dry (cloud-free) conditions ahead of the squall line were documented by satellite imagery and on-scene photos
–some sort of a shelf cloud was clearly visible in many of the photos I saw taken in Georgetown just before the event
–this occurred along the SE side of sub-Tropical JetStream, in an environment of strong wind shear​

What do you think ought to be the takeaway for cruisers from an event like this?

Pay attention to weather forecasts, and be prepared for conditions predicted. In this case, vessels should have been prepared for an interval of 40 to 50-knot wind. In addition to the numerical forecast, we include a great amount of detail on what’s driving the weather. On January 6, vessels relying on our weather forecast would have known the forecast was very uncertain (we discussed uncertainties in detail on our SSB Voice Nets and in our email forecast dedicated close to 1,000 characters describing uncertainties and forecast possibilities for January 6). If I were a boater in the Bahamas who received our forecast on January 5, I would have been in a secure anchorage that provided all-around protection due to the uncertainty and expected strength of the weather event predicted for January 6. But I would have been surprised to see wind in the 60 to 106-knot range.

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