David H Lyman

Storyteller

Story and Photos by David H. Lyman


Originally published in Caribbean Compass, July 2020.


Six years after Hurricane Hugo, Hurricane Luis came through the Caribbean, in 1995 as a Category 1. I flew down to the islands beforehand and moved my boat from Great Cruz Bay to Mahoe Bay and anchored as I had done before. We came through with no damage. People tell me I was foolish to remain onboard, and today I might agree with them.

     A week after putting Afaran back on her mooring in Great Cruz, Hurricane Marilyn came through as a Category 4. I’d elected to remain home in Maine for that one: Marilyn was forecast to be less threatening than Luis.

It was worse. Afaran and a dozen other boats in Great Cruz were all total losses. Nothing of my boat larger than a refrigerator door was found. Had I gone down, and had I remained aboard on my mooring in Great Cruz, I too would have been a total loss. But I would not have remained in Great Cruz, surrounded by two dozen other boats on uninspected moorings. I’d have gone around to Mahoe Bay.

     I wrote an article on Hurricane Survival for Caribbean Compass in 2013 (see page 27 at www.caribbeancompass.com/online/june13compass_online.pdf). Don Street provided some sage advice, with valuable links, in last month’s Compass. I can add very little, except perhaps a few observations. If you are reading the Compass, you are most likely already savvy. But here are ten things I’ve learned about surviving Hurricane Season.


1) It’s good to get out of town. I sail north, back to Maine. It only takes two weeks. Maine’s cold water saps the energy from storms; hurricanes are downgraded to a Tropical Storm or a Northeaster by the time they skirt the coast. Most of the harbors face south (thanks to the Ice Age), providing  the lee among the peninsulas. It’s also a nice place to spend the summer.


2) If my boat had to remain in the hurricane zone — from the Leeward Islands to the US East Coast — I’d make summer my annual haul out.


3) Otherwise in the Caribbean, I’d head to Grenada or Trinidad. Chris Parker also mentioned South America and Panama in his article last month. Like Don Street, I don’t think there are any available “hurricane holes” in the Leeward or Windward Islands — not anymore. Even Hurricane Hole on St. John has been placed off limits by the US Park Department — they own the mangroves.


4) Found a place to anchor? Every yacht should have sufficient and proper ground tackle onboard. We can argue about which anchor is best, but technique is more important than the design. I prefer a heavy Yachtsman or Fisherman for my storm anchor. Have lengths of chain, twisted nylon rode (my preference), chafe gear, shackles, thimbles, and seizing wire. I’d buoy my anchors to see where they are. Dive on each to ensure it’s dug in and the bottom is clear of things that might harm the rode.


Above: Anchorages like Ste. Anne in Martinique are popular. But in the event of a big blow, where do you want to be?

The roadstead off the village of Saint Anne, Martinique. A delightful anchorage, until hurricane season. With more than more 200 yachts at anchor, and a mile long fetch, seas will built up, anchors will drag, rodes will chaf through and a domino-effect will send boats to the beach, or worse yet, out to sea. Anchoring is an art and a science.


5) A word about nylon. Keep your storm rodes below, out of the sun, until needed. UV damages nylon. Use the best line you can afford, as it will have more internal lubricant to lessen friction while stretching.


6) A word about nylon chafe. There are two kinds: external, resulting from a line rubbing on a chock as it stretches, and internal, where the line fibers rub against each other. Chafe gear protects the line from rubbing on something, so we often use tubing or re-enforced hose.

  

7) Nylon chafe solutions: Use chain or wire running from the deck cleats through the chocks and over the side, where these can be shackled to the anchor lines. No need now for chafe gear, as the nylon lines are open to rain and repeated dunkings.


8) Have a plan. Write up a plan, on paper, about every- thing you plan to do months before a storm arrives. File a copy with your insurance agent. Keep a copy onboard, and follow it. Don’t expect the insurance company to send you a plan; they want you to do it. It’s better to think about a plan long before it’s needed. Things to include: Strip the sails, awnings and dodger, and clear the decks. Tape the hatches so wind-driven rain can’t get in. Replace the run- ning rigging with messengers.


9) Be aware. Keep your eye on NOAA and your ear to WX, from June through October. Load a storm alert app to your phone.

Afaran was secured in Coral Harbor, St. John, USVI.


10) Remain on board? BoatUS, the maritime insurance people, encourages own- ers to draw up a storm plan, carry it out, and then go ashore and let the insurance company deal with the results.

Would I remain aboard knowing what I’ve experienced? Depends on the storm, the anchorage, the boat, and the insurance policy. In Maine, I might remain aboard, the dinghy tied astern, ready to deploy. If another boat came adrift I’d be able to render assistance (I have).

I wrote to Derek, the mechanic on HOTTYD, and included a version of this story. He wrote back saying that he now hauls out each summer. Hurricane Marilyn, he told me, was much worse than Luis, even Hugo.

With the severity of the hurricanes in these warmer times, if I were anywhere other than Maine, I’d do my best to secure my boat and I would go ashore.



Suggested Reading

A great read is “The Hurricane” a 1936 novel by Nordhoff and Hall, the same writing team that wrote the Bounty Trilogy. Their book is about a South Pacific island and its people who experience a typhoon (hurricane).

The novel was turned into a 1937 Hollywood movie starring Dorothy Lamour, Jon Hail and Mary Astor. It’s available on Amazon and it’s worth watching. The storm effects, with no CGI, are realistic.

Leassons Learned from Hurricanes