Thunderstorm

We’d got used to thunderstorms. Even in Orlando, you generally experienced a jolly good storm in the afternoon and were able to watch the spectacular lightening in the distance from the top of a ride. We’d actually left Fort Lauderdale heading into a storm but they tend to be short-lived and move quickly so we’d managed to miss it. But we couldn’t avoid the one that hit us full on after dinner between West Palm Beach and St Augustine

We’d spotted it on the radar heading for us so we knew we were in for a difficult time. Chris was sorting out ropes and lines (preventer and barber hauler) and getting ready to haul in the sails, while I stowed everything down below. Because we’d just eaten, this involved more potentially flying objects than normal and by the time I was at the helm ready for sail work and Chris had finished his preparations we were already looking at gusts up to 25kts. We pulled in the head sail in screaming winds with huge cracks of lightening all around us and moved swiftly onto the main when the winds hit 35kt gusts. A second or two later and we were experiencing 40 to 45kt winds. From saying, “You might want to hurry, Chris”, I went straight to “We’ve just got to let it fly!” without passing “Go”. (Apparently this is the wrong thing to say -- one should say "draw"). Usually hauling in the main involves getting the boat into wind, pulling in the three reefs, stacking the sail in the sail bag while tailing the halyard and keeping the boat into the wind, tying up the sail bag and cleating off the halyard. Tonight it didn’t. Forget a nice orderly set of reefing lines and neat stacking. We pulled that puppy down and in, in record time.

Needless to say the kids were in the cabin, with strict instructions to stay there, in life jackets, we were in life jackets and foul weather gear (I’d left mine in Turks so I was a bit stuck, Chris hadn’t re-waterproofed his and was cursing his tardiness), and for the first time on the trip we went through a life raft briefing. Chris went back on the helm and tried to find a short and safe route out of the storm using radar and our visual lightning spotting from inside the bouncing saloon. We communicated via our radio intercom – or at least, we tried. The wind was so loud it was impossible to hear Chris and we had to open the door to torrential rain to shout up “starboard”, ”port”, “forward”, and “behind”. Jamie helpfully shouted up to Chris that “it’s started to rain harder!” – to which his response was, “Thanks, Jamie. I worked that one out!” Fortunately, although the wind and rain were ferocious, the sea hadn’t had time to get really wild. Huge seas and high wind are scary for land lubbers like us, although the skipper revels in them.

I can’t remember how long it took before we were back in clear skies and calm water – probably a lot less time that we thought. Lesson was learned though – Florida thunderstorms are bigger and faster than other places we’ve been and as soon as you start thinking about getting the sails in before an impending storm, it’s time to get them in.

The kids went to bed with lifejacket and warm clothes beside them, just in case...