Riding Out Tropical Storm Colin - Pt. 2

By definition, a “tropical storm” is a cyclone which originates in the tropics and attains sustained wind speeds between 34–63 knots (39–73 mph/63–118 km/h). It's one step below a category 1 hurricane. An eerie calm had descended upon the anchorage. There were none of the usual boat sounds … no fishing boats or cigar boats whizzing past up the channel. No jet skis. The tour boats didn't go out. There was no wind. The only movement of water was driven by the current and it was so quiet we could hear the lap of water against the hull as the water passed by. Everyone and everything seemed poised ... waiting for Tropical Storm Colin to arrive. It was the proverbial “calm before the storm”. Calm and disquieting.

We'd already stowed the dinghy and prepped for departure, so there wasn't much to do other than check and double-check. We lashed down the bimini. We busied ourselves with odd chores on board throughout the day, seemingly busy and casual, but the anticipation of the impending storm was always there.

We had brief showers on and off during the day and the skies were dark and forbidding. We waited and waited. We ate dinner around 7pm. It was still pretty quiet. We're not good at the waiting game and the angst was palpable. It wasn't until 9pm that we heard the first real rain begin to fall. Then it came in buckets. Hard, hard rain that emptied the sky and kept on coming. David's hatch repairs were being tested and seemed to be holding just fine. It became stifling below decks … hot and muggy with all the hatches and ports closed.

The wind soon caught up with the rain. We could hear it approaching like a freight train and then the howling began. It whipped through the rigging. Previously well-behaved lines and halyards banged and clanged. The incoming strong current was at odds with the winds and Cups heeled over as she took the winds broadside. A few things not stowed after dinner went flying off the counter … my bad. The mooring ball, driven by the strong current, clanged against the hull with loud thuds. David went on deck innumerable times to check the ball and look for chafe in mooring lines. Each time he came back below soaked to the bone after only minutes on deck. All was fine. We chatted, watched movies and sipped tea. There was no sleeping.

The tide finally began to change just after 11pm and the current got in sync with the wind. Cups was clearly more comfortable and so was her crew. The thunder and lightning began, but only one bolt appeared to strike close by. The others lit the sky spectacularly and blasted us with a few loud cracks, but posed no threat. We checked for weather updates frequently. Some waterspouts had been sighted earlier in the day in other parts of the state, but none in the St. Augustine area. We saw a max of 40 knots on the wind speed indicator … a good sailing day for our South African friends in Cape Town … but we were definitely out of practice for storm force winds.

By 2am, the worst that Colin was dishing out had passed. David made one more walk around deck, checked the mooring lines and we headed to bed … tired, but relieved. All told, it was certainly not the worst storm we've endured, but we were glad it was over. Colin is on his way northeast to Georgia and the Carolinas and then is expected to head offshore to the hurricane graveyard.

We woke just after 7am. The sun was trying to shine and the sky was a patchy blue. Cups seemed no worse for the wear and her decks were clean and salt-free. We discovered a few new leaks, but nothing major … something to add to “the list”. We noticed one sailboat at anchor nearby with its torn and tattered jib fluttering in the morning breeze. The rest of our neighbors appeared to be just fine. The marina launch made a pass through the mooring field asking if we'd had enough wind. Definitely.

The worst is over and we'll be on our way soon once the seas calm down a bit and the southerly winds return. In the meantime, we return to our adventures in St. Augustine. Once we're en route to the Chesapeake, we'll update you with passage notes.

Riding out Tropical Storm Colin - Pt. 1

We interrupt the fun and games in St. Augustine to bring you Tropical Storm Colin. We delayed a previous departure from St. Augustine as we waited for Tropical Storm Bonnie to make her way up the Carolina coast and dissipate … and come back to life … and finally die a lingering death. We were all set to leave when Tropical Depression 3 sprung up quite unexpectedly (for us anyway) off the Yucatan peninsula. It became Tropical Storm Colin overnight and quickly made its way across the Gulf of Mexico, strengthened and headed straight for Florida. Just our luck, Colin is the earliest Atlantic “C” storm on record, since they started naming storms in 1953. Going all the way back to 1851, however, the previous earliest appearance of the season’s third storm was June 12, 1887, although some early-season storms were undoubtedly missed during the pre-satellite era.

We hemmed and hawed and vacillated back and forth about sticking around in St. Augustine or leaving. Should we stay on our mooring? We're quite well protected here behind a barrier island though we're not far from the St. Augustine Inlet. We can expect some fetch and storm surge. The current is sometimes strong and when wind is against current, it could get mighty uncomfortable. If we left, could we beat out the storm? Are we being wimps? It's always hard to make the decision. We never know how much sensationalism the weather forecasters and news agencies are adding to the facts. Plus we all know, weather forecasting is not an exact science. In the end, Mother Nature does what she wants to do, despite weather models, predictions and memos to the contrary. Perhaps Colin would just peter out and then we've wasted two good sailing days for nothing. On the other hand, if the projected path of the storm was as forecast, it would nail us off the Carolina coast just as we reached infamous Cape Hatteras with projected 50+ knot sustained winds … higher gusts … and heavy seas. The GRIB forecast and Buoy Weather confirmed this. We decided to stay put. The day was sunny and bright and breezy and it was hard to imagine what was coming our way.

We woke to heavy, gray, ominous-looking skies, flat-calm water and no wind. It showered with heavy downpours throughout the morning and we're anticipating the same for the rest of the day. David took the opportunity during lulls to check mooring lines, batten down the canvas and wash the remaining salt off the decks. When we have extra fresh water, we tend to make the most of it. With a predicted 3-5” of rain in the next 24 hours, we'll have all the fresh water we can deal with. We are not alone in the mooring field. There are several boats who have made the same decision to hang tight. Folks are out and about checking lines, lashing things down and preparing for the worst.

Ashore they're expecting localized flooding. The forecast also includes violent thunder and lightning, possible tornadoes and of course, strong, gusty winds. The extra iPad and GPS are in the microwave oven, just in case.

We are just south of Jacksonville and in the direct projected path of the storm, the worst of which is scheduled to arrive around 0200. Of course, always in the middle of the night! We're not expecting to sleep much, so I think I'll have plenty of time to write and provide a blow-by-blow description of the storm for you tomorrow. Stay tuned!