A Storm at the Dock

January 30th (Thursday) 

Our day started like many others; I did some writing, while Jason did some reading. We did a couple of hours of Spanish lesson time, which is what we try to do every day. We both exercised, and we heated our water tank and back bathroom while having lunch. After lunch we both enjoyed showers, and then started tinkering on some boat projects. That is when the wind started, and that is when the day became abnormal.

Our afternoon got exciting when the sustained wind speed rose above 30 knots, and the gusts of 40-50 knots became longer and more frequent. It got to the point where our wind alarm, set at 30 knots, was always on, and every time we looked at the meter it was in the high 40s. The wind was coming from the southwest, straight up the channel and directly at us. 

 The marina’s breakwater, which is a line of floating logs, was being continually covered in water as the waves coming up the channel broke over it, and as the tide got higher large rollers were crashing onto the shore. What wave action the breakwater broke up, the wind immediately tried to pick up again, and a sizeable chop, with white caps, was rushing through the marina. Although the wind was coming up the channel, it was also bouncing off of the mountain, and so the most of the force was actually hitting us from a slight angle. Our boat was being pushed hard against the dock, compressing all of our fenders. As the wind pushed our boat over, she heeled on an angle, and things inside the boat shifted as though we were out sailing. The howl of the wind, the sound of water splashing by, the groaning of our fenders, and the sound of our enclosure shuddering under the impact, were all constant sounds.

We had seven lines securing our boat to the dock, and Jason went out to check on them. Before stepping out of the cockpit he made sure that he put on his lifejacket, because standing on the slippery, green, algae-covered docks was actually somewhat dangerous in those winds. If we were not properly braced for each gust, the wind would sometimes slide us across the dock, and we kept our weight low when the biggest gusts came. 

Jason readjusted our lines and then suggested that we move Kiki to the other side of the dock. She was on the same side of the dock as the Red Witch, which was great for the Red Witch because instead of yanking on her lines she was being pushed back against them and into the dock. However, this was not ideal for Kiki, as we did not have dock fenders for her. 

I suited up, and headed out onto the dock to help. It took both of us to control Kiki as the wind tried to pick up her bow when we started to untie her. We stayed on our knees on the slippery dock, and in between gusts we worked her around the end of the finger. We then re-secured her on the other side, and she rode much better, pulling out from the dock instead of being rubbed up and down against it.  

Watching the wind whipping up the water off of the top of the sea and hurling it along, while feeling the force of each gust, was quite amazing. An incredible force!  

I came back inside to warm up my fingers, and Jason walked down the dock to check on the other boats. He came back to say that one of the boats had a lot of chafe in their lines, and he wondered if we should call Ken, the wharfinger, to let him know.  

Once I was warm again, I headed up the dock to the payphone and decided to call my parents before calling Ken. Just as I was starting to tell them about the stormy weather, I was looking out over the marina and I saw the powerboat with the chafed lines break partially free from the dock. The two forward lines had snapped, and the bow swung outwards. The boat was now only being held by two badly-chafed stern lines, but luckily they were tight enough that as the boat swung outwards the swim grid hit the dock and braced the boat from being able to swing completely around and hit the boat behind it. 

I told my parents that I would call them back, and I ran down the dock to get Jason. Hammering on our deck to convey the urgency, I quickly told him what had happened. He rushed to put on his rain gear, and he grabbed an emergency length of line, which we had.  

Down at the powerboat, I took one end of the line and went out onto the bow of the boat, where I secured it to the cleat. Once I was back on the dock, and in between gusts, Jason was able to pull the bow back around and to the dock. Also, the shore-power cord had been pulled out of the outlet on the dock and into the water. Luckily it had not been wrapped around the power post or it probably would have done more damage. We safely secured the boat with our own line, which was plenty long to do five new ties. It was amazing how the people who owned the boat, had left it. I assume that they live inland, and only come to their boat in fair weather during the summer. They probably had no idea of the extent to which the storms can blow here in the winter. The boat, which was a medium-sized powerboat, was only tied off with four lines, all of which were almost half the size of ours, and they were tied in such a way as to promote chafing, instead of limit it. It was amazing that the lines had lasted as long as they had.  

When we were comfortable that the powerboat was fully secured, I went back up to the payphone and called Ken. When I told him what had happened, he thanked us, and said that he and John would be down shortly. They arrived when I was telling the story to my parents, and they retied the boat with some line that they had brought, so as to give us our line back.  

The wind began to calm off as evening approached, and by night time we were once again on still water. It is amazing how quickly the wind can whip up the water, and how quickly it can calm off again when the wind has passed.