Everyone enjoys a heavy weather story and this is the worst weather I experienced on the cruise.
On 7/1 at 9:00am I was 202 nautical miles from Noank and doing 6 knots with a full main and yankee, I did not have the staysail set. The sky was blue in places but the upper atmosphere was hazy. It looked like a change was brewing. At 1:30pm the Gulf Stream squall generator was was up to its old antics. I was hit by a squall which hit 40 knots for a short time. I rode it out by putting the first reef in the main, easing it, and roller reefing the yankee. I was hoping for a short duration and it worked out just that way. Every 40 minutes, or so, I had another squall pass through. A couple were just tropical downpours with winds of 20 knots or less. Several more in my visual range just slid past me. The subsequent squalls were routine with plenty of rain and winds increasing from 18 to 20 knots into the low to mid 30's before pushing through. I still got by with one reef in the main (I did not have my staysail set) and roller reefed the yankee as needed. At 6:00pm I got whacked. This squall, coming on the heels of all the others in the area, had a bit of sea running before it hit. I started the morning with 3 to 6 footers and by 6:00pm the seas must have been 8 to 10 feet with some slop due to the winds boxing the compass as the squalls departed the area.
At 6:00pm the sheer size of the squall was noticeable. It grew noticeably cold. Hell, I'd just spent 24 days in Bermuda, it got very cold! I could see the rain flattening the seas, then I saw lightening and heard a low moan. I quickly dropped the main. When I returned to the cockpit I still had the full yankee set and the wind speed was touching 30 knots. I started to reef the yankee and the rigging started to hum. The wind speed and the seas rose very quickly. I watched as the wind speed hit 35 knots and showed no sign of easing. I reefed the yankee to maybe 30 square feet and the wind just continued to climb. I saw it hit 45 knots. I reefed the yankee a little more, took a good look at everything to ensure we were secure, and settled in under the dodger while the wind vane steered the boat. This was my usual spot. The wind vane did all the steering.
The intensity of this squall was dramatic. The seas built up quickly into cobalt blue mountains. There were occasional breaking seas and lots of spray flying. One sea broke right beside us and the wind deposited about 15 gallons into the cockpit. This was an anomaly. I had the wind vane set so we were working our way steadily to windward, climbing the seas on the port tack. The boat was very comfortable and there was no green water coming aboard.
This squall wasn't abating. The dull roar of the wind continued and the rigging continued to hum. After an hour went by I began to think it wasn't a squall at all. The wind velocity increased occasionally but stayed under 50 knots. We were taking it in stride so I figured I'd get below so I didn't have to look at those cobalt mountains any longer. I have a very high bridge deck and I had the bottom drop board in place all afternoon. I went below and popped the remaining drop boards into position and latched the top board. I continued reading Villiers 'Captain James Cook' and rested comfortably. Leeboards are worth their weight in gold. You never have to worry about being bounced out of your berth.
At 8:00pm I could feel the wind dying down so I peeked outside. The seas were still breaking occasionally and they were enormous. In my log I noted "seas enormous 16-20 feet?". I still think that was accurate, maybe conservatively accurate. By 11:00pm the wind was down to 30 knots steady. I was relieved to see that this event had diminished from its earlier show of strength. We were riding comfortably so I set my alarm for 30 minute intervals and I went to bed. Every 30 minutes I'd poke my head out and use the spotlight to take a look at the boat. I'd also check the AIS but nothing ever appeared on the screen, thankfully. We ran on all night as comfortably as conditions dictated (the wind continued to abate) and I see by my log we covered 90.4 nautical miles from 9:00 am on 7/1 to 7:30am on 7/2.
No sense wasting a fair wind
