029: When the Waves Turn the Minutes to Hours

 On Thursday, November 30^th, both Matt and I were up early to check the weather forecast and each of our “weather advisor” services.    The one I had subscribed to said this:

 
The NOAA forecast Thursday morning said two-foot waves, four second periods, winds shifting from North to East to Southeast.    We were headed Southeast, so we might have some beam seas for a bit, but then on the nose, no big deal.   Matt’s advisor was aligned with the NOAA forecast.    But all agreed it was going to get nasty on Friday with NOAA calling for a small craft advisory late Thursday night through Friday night and no real good seas for a few more days.   We decided to go for it and left the dock at 7:00 a.m. Eastern Time for our crossing along about six larger boats, which was a bit reassuring (“at least one of them must know what they are doing, right?”).

 

Now whenever I do a Lake Michigan crossing, as I leave the marina I play the song, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” for the same reason that stage actors tell each other, “Break a leg:” for good luck.   I forgot to do that today, and Neptune was not happy.

The first twenty-five n/m, we had three-to-five-foot seas with short periods, and we got absolutely hammered.   I would have turned back but I thought it was just the shallower waters of the sound causing it and it would get better as we got deeper.  Wrong.   This is what we experienced, and not at its worst:

 

Hygge shot from KatMat:

 At this point, my luggage rack that I had constructed on the top of the boat began to come apart.  Now my engineering friends may scoff at my lack of engineering talent, but it had survived for twelve hundred miles just fine.  But it wasn’t up to this task.  I had to stand on the galley table and the helm and go up through the hatches to tie ropes fore and aft to stabilize the rig.  Unfortunately, with all the pounding, the lines kept stretching.   So had to repeat this about five or six times (getting soaked each time.)  Pieces fell off, we were in danger of losing one or both cargo boxes.  One with expensive scuba gear in it.   I’ll save you the suspense:

 Before:

 

 After (note lines tied):

 

Each trip through the hatches, I began to feel a bit seasick.  I never go to the “green stage,” but my eyes, when not tightening rigging, were fixed on that horizon.  The entire day I had all of six saltine crackers.  It was a "near run thing."

Finally, Neptune took pity on us and the seas calmed down to the forecasted two-feet, what we expected originally:

 

 As we got to within twenty-four n/m from shore, since we were headed Southeast and the winds were from the Southeast, the waves calmed down to less than one foot.    The ride was pleasant.

 

Basically, everyone we talked to after getting to the dock had something broken:  KatMat had a turnbuckle holding up the radar mast come undone, another guy had a broken fuel filter with diesel fuel in his bilge (not good), another person had a line wrapped around his prop, etc. etc.    Apparently, there was one weather advisor who, contrary to all the others, advised it was a “no-go” day.   We need to get his information!

I washed down the boat, took off the cargo box, and began assessing the damage and repair plan to the luggage rack. Had a nice long shower at the marina, a quick bite to eat, and then had to prepare for the Finance class I teach on-line for UIC at 7:00 p.m.  Class done, Nancy and I watched an episode of the Crown (get your sh-t together Queen, the Nation needs you!) and we both went to bed drained.

 

Dave

Odometer:  1,652 n/m