SERENDIPITY by storm

New Caledonia

October 2024

For the first time on our circumnavigation, we found ourselves in a storm. We set a course for the land of the Kanaks, annexed by France for centuries and where conflicts continue to simmer. The conflict erupted in 2024 and soon engulfed the entire archipelago. After phone calls to the Nouméa Marina, we decided to dock in Nouméa anyway.

We were assured that the situation had calmed down since the French police intervention and the arrest of one of the ringleaders. However, people were only allowed to move freely on the main island, and even there, only within the confines of the city in the south. A curfew was in effect from 8 p.m. onward.

We'll set sail from Vanuatu, specifically from Santo Esperitu. We expect the crossing to take four days.

Upon departure from Vanuatu, we consulted the relevant weather models (ECMWF, PGE, PWE, GFS, etc.) for the route in question. The forecast predicted sunshine and a maximum of 8-10 knots of wind. Champagne sailing.

On the second day of our departure, the sky becomes increasingly overcast. Thunder can be heard in the distance. The wind steadily increases, now exceeding 30 knots.

It's raining constantly and waves wash over board.

On the fourth day of our passage, as we pass the Astrolabe Reef and head for New Caledonia, chaotic conditions prevail. Winds whip the seas, spray swirls off the wave crests. The wind has now reached gusts of 45 knots and more. It's shifting by about 60 degrees and is now coming from the front. We start the engine, but we're only making two to three knots at most.

This shows how loud it is under deck and how things get thrown about.

At 2:15 p.m., we contact John, our weather router from New Zealand. We describe the situation on the ground. John requests more time to better understand the situation. His models have also been promising calm sailing weather for days.

We sit anxiously in the cabin, scared. Nina holds me and reassures us that we've already accomplished a lot and will overcome this situation too. The hug feels good.

We're tacking to. We're heading into the wind over the stay and leaving the storm jib hard aft. We're assisting Serendipity with the engine and setting the windward rudder. Serendipity is drifting toward Astrolab Reef at 1.5 to 2 knots. The ship's movements are becoming calmer. The boat is listing less.

At 5:00 p.m., John calls back. He wants to know what the local weather is like, where the winds are blowing from, and where the clouds are moving. Checking the compass, we give him the information he needs. Far to the north, the cloud cover is breaking up slightly. The weather router tentatively indicates a low pressure system south of New Caledonia, moving southeastward in the Southern Hemisphere.

5:30 p.m. - John calls again. He's found radar images hidden on the internet that show a strong low south of New Caledonia. He expects the low to strengthen in the next few hours, but to move away from us to the southeast.

We shorten the watch cycle from four hours to two. Serendipity is doing excellently, now lying 50 degrees to the wind, but barely making any progress. She's gently rising and falling. Nina takes the first watch until midnight, while I lie down in my bunk to take over after midnight. Worries about the nearby Astrolabe Reef keep me from falling asleep until late.

Every four hours our position gets logged by satellite. This picture shows how we drifted towards the Astrolab Reef while we hove to.

Midnight. Nina wakes me up. We set a south-southwesterly course. The next evening, the storm having abated considerably, we enter the Havana Reef in southern Caledonia. Nina takes the helm at midnight and confidently steers Serendipity and the sleeping captain through the coral-lined channels, some of which are only 10 meters wide.

When I wake up in the morning to the play of colors of the rising sun and look into the radiant face of my co-skipper, all my worries disappear.

The colours of the New Caledonian mountains is beautiful and welcoming. Also the sea is much calmer within the reef.

Dealing with severe weather

Active sailing in heavy weather places considerable demands on the crew and the boat. And with a small crew like ours, sleep significantly influences the approach taken.

Passive storm tactics

Heaving to

Heaving or lying to is one of the passive measures in strong winds or storms that every skipper should practice with his boat in rough seas.

Measures

• Sails should be reefed early, according to the average gust strength. Reef as soon as your inner voice tells you to. Anyone who sails downwind knows that the wind strength is generally underestimated. True wind and apparent wind are very different here.

• Move over the stay to the other bow. Leave the staysail (jib) sheet out. This puts the jib aft. Give the windward rudder.

• Keep the boat at about 50 degrees to the wind. Provide engine assistance if necessary.

• Adjust the mainsail with the traveler, where present, until the boat comes to a standstill.

  
  

What else needs to be considered:

Lee Shore

After heaving to, the boat may encounter a lee shore, so check for possible obstacles and clear sea space before the maneuver.

Sea Anchor

If you're weathering a storm, you can also keep the boat downwind with the sea anchor. This makes the angle to the wind more precise and less likely to drift the boat to leeward.

A sea anchor designed as a parachute keeps the bow facing the wind. At least, it should. The angle to the wind can be adjusted using lines and blocks. Lin and Larry Pardey report that, with the correct adjustment, a wake of bubbles should form in the leeward direction, dampening the boat's movements (Handbook of Storm Tactics, ed. Thomas Käsbohrer).

Diagram of a boat heaving to.

Conclusion of heaving to

When the yacht is hove to, its behavior changes. The boat rises and falls with the waves rushing beneath it. Movements become smoother. Necessary activities are easier, allowing you to rest, eat, and regroup.

The maneuver is simple. It's not the average wind speed, but the wind force in gusts that determines the choice of reef. In winds over 30 knots, we go to the fourth reef and furl the jib, which is mounted on a separate forestay. We deliberately forgo a furling boom or mast. In our opinion, they have more disadvantages than advantages on a bluewater yacht.

Drifting

In our opinion, letting the ship drift with no sails up is a passive measure. Hatches are closed, the deck is cleared, and everything that cannot be brought below deck is securely lashed down.

There is a consensus among leading skippers that active sailing and intervention is far preferable to drifting in front of the mast and rigging. The risk of capsizing is high. It is a possible measure in clear conditions with an overtired crew. However, we prefer heaving to.

Active measures

Running-off

Running off may be the best tactic if the storm is temporary and the expected wave height does not pose a threat to the boat. Especially in squalls, running off is usually easy, and radar is often a good aid. Position the boat so that the wind is slightly astern and the sails are well filled. If the wind shifts, follow it (Kretschmer, 267). With this tactic, you ride out the squall.

However, if severe weather is forecast for days, and fronts have formed and deepened, it's more than just riding out a squall. The duration of the storm is significantly more challenging for both crew and boat. You have the choice between running off, heaving to, or sailing close to the wind to escape the storm as quickly as possible. The decisive factors are the local conditions and the crew's skills.

Measures

Generally, the boat should be held in front of the waves so that it bears off slightly. A course of approximately 30 to 50 degrees before the wind reduces the risk of jibing. Use a preventer or a boom brake. The storm jib and mainsail should be reefed as appropriate.

Allow the wind to fall slightly astern. Bear away in wave troughs and luff up ahead of the wave. Use a drogue (sea brake) to keep the boat from drifting.

Make sure the engine is well lubricated. Only a well-maintained engine provides the necessary confidence in its capabilities when the going gets tough. A word about the boat's speed:

At first glance, you might think that increasing speed isn't the right approach in big waves, and that you'll feel safer at a slower pace in extreme conditions. However, increasing speed reduces the risk of capsizing and makes the boat less maneuverable (Yachting.com , September 14, 2023, last accessed November 30, 2024).

For quite a few skippers, high speed is therefore part of seamanship.

Sailing close to the wind

Essentially, the conditions for active close-hauled sailing are similar to those for tacking, with the difference that close-hauled sailing requires the boat to sail on a course of 45 to 60 degrees close-hauled and requires sufficient sail to make at least 2-3 knots. If the rough seas are not yet fully developed and the conditions are moderate, close-hauled sailing can be used to cover a reasonable amount of ground and weather strong winds.

It's possible to use the autopilot over longer distances and thus longer watches. The engine can be used as a support, but it must be constantly monitored, as the storm usually lasts for days and there's a risk of the propeller being blocked by ropes, etc., being lost overboard, or the engine overheating.