Weekend Write-In Story Collection

From Cape Horn

In 500 words, write a story in which relaxation is so close, yet so far away. Written for the Weekend Write-In prompt themed "Relax" 21 - 23 August 2015

Sailing from Cape Horn to the Falklands in February 2012, we were hit by storm that developed earlier and more intensely than predicted. This story is from notes in our log. My companion piece, "Toward Safety", adds some personality to the story.

Hurricane at Sea

I looked again at the GRIBs and at the cyclone predicted to pass over Stanley at 2100. On the chart-plotter, I added several anchorages along the coast that would offer protection from the predicted Force 11 storm and we pressed on, making the best speed possible into the wind against the tide.

At midnight the barometer was at 989.8. At 0700 Sunday it was down to 982.9 and down further to 979.1 at 0900. The wind was northwest 18 to 22 and assisting our motor-sailing. At 1025 we were hit by a squall with mid-40s gusts and heavy rain. At 1113 another more gentle squall passed over with winds mid-30s. At 1247 we were hit by a more violent squall with 45 to 50-knot winds. I headed north toward Port Fitzroy.

At 1413 we were about 4 miles from the entrance to Fitzroy when sustained winds over 60 knots and rapidly building seas made progress difficult. Thoughts of approaching an increasingly lee shore as the wind backed and strengthened made me reexamine the situation. At 1430 I rolled in the last hanky of the main, put our stern to the storm and ran seaward with it under power.

At 1440 I decided to turn southward into the troughs, shut-down the engine and lay a-hull under bare poles, bows southward in case I needed to motor more southings to clear Wolf Rocks. We watched our drift on the cockpit chart-plotter, pleased with its direction.

We also watched the anemometer blip over 70 knots and the inclinometer jam-up against the stops at 60º. We were hit by a few breaking waves, and we took them in stride. I thought of launching the Jordan series drogue, but I realised that we were just fine without.

We went below and cocooned in the rather more peaceful saloon. From the chart-plotter there I monitored our drift east-northeast, seeing that if the wind maintained its direction, we should clear Wolf Rocks. I set-up a plot on the iPad to track our drift, and we laid down on the main saloon couches to relax and watch the storm happen. We called Port Stanley on VHF and reported our situation, telling them we were comfortable, safe and in no danger. The watchkeeper told us they had been monitoring us on AIS and would maintain a watch.

The port sidelight in the salon was looking bottomward a few times as breakers hit our starboard beam. Overhead, through the skylights and hatches, we watched as great depths of green water sluiced over the decks. We remained dressed with our boots on, covered ourselves with duvets and napped.

The watch alarm woke me every half hour to monitor the situation on the iPad beside me on the settee. I added hourly fixes to the plot. At 1740 we drifted past Wolf Rock, clear by 3.1 miles and continued to seaward. The next piece of land downwind was the west coast of Chile, a circumnavigation away. We relaxed further and slept more soundly.