Chance Of Thunderstorms

[commanderpete]

Just another Friday. Can't wait to get out of work and jump on the boat for a quick sail. Weather forecast calls for a "chance of thunderstorms." But, they always say that in the summer. Doppler radar map looks OK.

Still, to be safe, I'll stick close to home. I can always duck in if the weather takes a turn for the worse.

Sailing is good. 10-15 knot winds. I go back and forth, round and round for an hour or so. The sky begins to get dark and I head on in. I'm only about a half mile off, the wind behind me.

Then the wind dies. Nothing. Sails flap. That's strange. I haul down the sails and fire up the engine.

Suddenly the wind starts piping up. Only now its on the nose. The wind has turned around nearly 180 degrees. The breeze starts building and keeps coming. The water becomes agitated, covered with small whitecaps. Within minutes, the whitecaps turn into steep breaking chop. Wind is howling now. I'm having trouble keeping the boat into the wind. Just the force of the wind on the hull is pushing the boat sideways, heeling her way over.

The forward hatch flies open. I leave the helm to dog it down. The main sail is being clawed by the wind, trying to rip the sail ties off. I wrap the sail with a line. Meanwhile, I'm getting pushed further away.

Back on course again with the engine at full bore. Making little progress against the wind and waves. Rudder of little use. I have to swivel the engine to one side and the other to keep the bow into the wind. Boat is hardly moving. I look to see if the prop has fallen off.

Evil black clouds start rolling in. They look menacing, like Armageddon.

Catching alot of spray over the bow. Every other wave in the face. Now the rain starts. Big, fat raindrops that hurt when they hit you. Feels like hail. Hard to see. Lightning starts. It's far away, for now. I'm eyeing anything metal suspiciously.

Finally reach the safety of my canal. I keep the engine wide open. Screw the "no wake" zone. Race down to my slip. Tie her off good. Jump in the car.

On the way home, there are fallen trees and power outages here and there. Reports of microbursts.

Maybe I won't be pulling that stunt again anytime soon.

[Mike Goodwin]

Sounds like more fun than my windless weekend , got the ol heart a pumpin I bet you did .

[Janice Collins]

Drama and Trauma!!!!!
Know the feeling...picture postcard perfect one moment, NIGHTMARE from HELL the next. But the experience is a lot like childbith, too soon you forget and go back for more.....
Not sure what microbursts are, but I've sailed too close to waterspouts. Hate to spot thoses mother twisters!!!

[SailorLiz]

Sounds exciting. Yea Right! Those were the same storms that came through here a day before hitting your area. We had 9 confirmed tornados, plus several water spouts hit that hit us here in Northern Lower Michigan. I've never seen such severe weather here. I wasn't sailing, as I was home hiding in my basement. One tornado touched down 5 miles from us and a funnel cloud went right over the top of the house. Glad to hear that you made it back ok.

[commanderpete]

It was quite a show. I was glad to get in before the lightning really let loose.

http://www.nytimes.com/2002/08/04/nyregion/04LIGH.html

Tragic story.

The breeze had been coming from the south when the front moved in from the north. Stood the waves right up.

[Theis]

That was quite a storm. I was at the government dock in North Manitou Island- which is totally unprotected, except by the shore, the night the big storm hit (a Tuesday night). As you said, there was little warning. When they said something about the Doppler radar, all you had to do was to stick your head out the hatch. Eight miles away, in Leland, Michigan, in northern Lake Michigan, they clocked winds in excess of 77 mph for over 20 minutes in the storm. Sheet lightning kept the sky illumninated like it was mid day. Knocked down trees had fallen everywhere, and campers came out of the woods scared (This is part of the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore - The Manitous are also storm magnets) The NOAA weather broadcasts were also knocked out by the storm.

I survived that one but couldn't leave my exposed position the next afternoon (Wednesday) because of the severe weather alerts, which didn't materialize. I planned to leave early the next morning to get into a protected position before anything else developed (nothing was expected), but the sky looked ugly and got uglier - and uglier. After it was obvious that this was a second big one. NOAA (which is next to useless in these parts in my opinion) issued a severe storm warning

That second storm was the one that did me in. I survived the winds (which were not as severe as two nights previously), but after I thought the storm was over, and had gone below to change into dry clothes, the surge unexpectedly started to arrive from the more open waters to the north. The boat would pull from the dock, roll towards the dock, and then the stanchion catch under the dock deck - jamming the stanchion through the deck.

Have some repairs to do now, but at the time I was concerned about losing the boat. With the help of duck tape, I got the boat home with a lot of wet food and cushions.

That was the worst storm sequence that anyone up there recalled in recent history -but why couldn't I be in a quiet protected harbor, like Leland when it hit?

[commanderpete]

Ouch. That does hurt.

But, glad to see you made it back OK. You figure on a trip like yours there have to be a few disasters.

It could have been worse. Now this is bad:

[commanderpete]

This has got to hurt

[commanderpete]

This could ruin your day too

[Theis]

Ouch. Have any idea about where those were from. How does a sailboat wind up a few fathoms down, but upright?

[commanderpete]

Sorry, don't know the story behind those photos, except that it was the aftermath of a hurricane down in the Caribbean.

Welcome back. The important thing is that you weathered the storm and nobody got hurt. It's easier to fix fiberglass than body parts.

[Theis]

This is what a maelstrom looks like coming hitting North Manitou Island late last July. I am behind the protection of this concrete and steel dock and was OK until the surge started coming in from the north (the picture is taken looking north). The surge pushed two stanchions right through the deck. It is repaired now but I hate fiberglass repair more than ever.

The people running were waiting for the ferry, and when the storm started shifting direction right toward the island, with prospects of tornado weather, the National Park Service people told everyone to seek shelter. My shelter was the boat.

[Theis]

Sorry about that. Forgot to post the picture and this system wouldn't let me delete the message and start over again. So here it is

[Theis]

This is what the dock looked like the prior afternoon with Solsken appearing to be protected from any possible storm

[Theis]

And, lastly, after I escaped the dock, the storm, and going aground while trying to escape, travelling some nine miles across reefs and inside lighthouses, I finally dropped anchor in 50 ft of water in South Manitou harbor. Consider I am all the way in. This is a big harbor open from the northeast through the east.

Notice that the forward and middle stanchion are not standing straight. Those are the two that were knocked through the deck.

Also notice the whisker pole attached to the port masthead shroud. It is holding the end of the jib halyard. The halyard, being jammed in the masthead pulley could not be raised or lowered (It being fortuitous that we got the sail off and also fortuitous that the halyard was secured before the big storms hit.