Our destination that day was Devilfish Bay, we’ve been there before, and with a storm on the way, it seemed to have plenty of protection from the inbound wind.
This is the forecast, and we wanted to be in a place where we might have wind, but be protected from the main brunt of it. We figured some of the wind would come through the ravines, but we didn’t expect what happened. Winds forecasted to come from South/Southeast, which it did everywhere else, the winds came into our bay due north, and they were accelerated by 30-40 percent.
We’re the 43 on these charts.
We had a fellow cruising boater come into the bay thinking the same way we did. Tuesday was getting bumpy, and windy, and they let out more anchor chain to help hold the boat. Then when things didn’t settle down, they decided to pull the anchor up, and head back to their last anchorage, thinking it would provide more protection. It was a good choice. Weather got worse for us, and by the time we thought we should do the same thing, it was too late. With the amount of wind wrapping around in the bay, it was too hard to hold the boat into the wind, and have the windlass pull the chain back onboard. So Bill put out the second bridle on the chain and let out more, all while doing this in 30-40 knots winds. We couldn’t put out the maximum amount due to being too close to the lee shore.
At least he did this while it was still light. He had to go out four times to fix things, in 30-70 knots winds, once in the dark.
We didn’t get the wind generator shut off in time, and finally a 50-70 knot blast snapped it off of the base, and decapitated one of the blades. We are grateful that the flying blade didn’t do anymore damage, but now the remaining hanging piece was banging the mast, and we didn’t want it to take out the radar dome.
Bill went out, and managed to get a line around it to secure it in place, it was hanging by the partially cut cable, and a rear wire line. Again he is out in sustained 20-40 knots of wind, with 50-70 knot gusts.
I looked out one of the pilothouse hatches, and noticed that the main sail cover was coming undone at the rear end, so out went Bill to secure it with a sail tie. He had to stand on the railing on a pitching boat in the rain, in order to reach it.
By now we’ve been in sustained 30-40 knots with buffeting wind gusts 50-70, and williwaws coming off of the surface of the bay with spray hitting us, and it’s starting to get dark. At least in the light I had a small amount of comfort being able to see what was going on, once it got dark, I just had to ride out whatever came our way.
Bill looked out the cockpit and noticed the mizzen sail cover was off , and the wind was flogging the sail, so out he goes, this time in the dark, and wraps a line around the cover, and sail to keep it from flapping. Neither of those items can handle much chafe, we haven’t taken the line off yet to see if there is any damage.
By 4:00pm, we’ve been blasted on all sides by winds, and Denali Rose can’t react fast enough to face into the wind each time, so we been heeling over both port and starboard. Also we’ve been dragging anchor at least twice, so our 100lb Spade is not holding us in these large gusts, there’s only so much room to go, and we don’t want to be in too shallow, and go aground. Bill decides to start the engine and drive into the wind to help the anchor hold, and to try to hand steer into the wind to help with the side gusts. I took one photo at this point, and no more during the event.
Bill is at the helm trying to hold the boat into the wind. Thank goodness for the dual helm, one outside in the cockpit, and one inside in the pilot house. He had to brace himself every time wind or waves hit. So did I, but I was sitting on the settee at the table. Red lights are for night vision, most boats are equipped with them.
You can see the forward sail sheets, (lines), just outside the window, those were banging into the boat, and windows frequently, sounding like someone was hitting the boat with a sledge hammer.
We had to turn off the Espar heater because it kept flaming out, I suspect wind was blowing up the exhaust, and the diesel drip heater was off, and the stack removed and capped for safety, so now we are relying on the small buss heater that sends heat from the engine into the pilothouse.Temperature outside is in the mid forties, and though it was cooling off, we were okay with our wearing fleece.
Wind is loud, if you’ve been in a wind storm, you know the noise. Wind is howling, lines are banging, waves are hitting the boat on both sides, and front, it’s a cacophony of sound, and movement. With 50-70+ knot gusts banging into us, the items in the boat not tied down, and even the ones that were, started to fall. All the items would move back and forth as we heeled over in each direction, and when a hard gust would hit, things started to fall to the floor. Even items that were “secured” behind a fiddle toppled. (Those railings around the table in the previous photo are called fiddles.) All items on the galley counter fell to the floor, even items on nonskid, we keep all of our knives in protective plastic sleeves, I’m very glad we did, most of my crafting supples, and my clothes that were in tubs, and baskets hit the floor and opened, the v-berth storage collapsed, the bookshelf divested itself of all items, the dinette area lost everything off the benches, and table, the machine room had a bottle of lubricant hit the floor and spill, the sink in the rear head had sea water coming up the drain, and soaked everything in salt water, Bill has a tool shelf by the wheel, and tools were sliding across the floor. As each thing crashed, I tried to corral them in boxes, tubs, and in the sink. After awhile, Bill said to just stay seated, as it was too dangerous to move about the boat as we were being slammed on all sides. The noise of the storm, the boat, and our possessions crashing was nerve wracking.
After trying to steer into the wind, and gusts unsuccessfully, Bill decided to engage the auto pilot in the direction of the main sustained winds, and keep the engine rpms to the point of staying in one spot so that the pull on the anchor is lessened. It worked fairly well, but the gusts, wind waves, and williwaws were still forceful, and we continued to rock, and heel. Or is that rock and roll? Uh, not roll, I don’t want to do that in a boat.
This went on from 4:00pm till about 3:00am, when the winds started slacking, and Bill had to let off of the throttle to the engine as we were driving forward instead of holding position. He also wanted to see if the anchor would hold us, and then we could shut it down. As winds abated, the anchor holding, he stopped the engine, and we breathed. We did minimal clean up, and made it into bed by 4:00am.
Tried to sweep everything into the sink, and put things in the tubs, but the tubs were sliding and eventually ended up on the floor. You can see the knife covers we use in the front of the sink.
The kuerig took a tumble, but it still works, though we can’t find the cap to the water reservoir, the sliding doors on this cupboard wouldn’t stay closed, and all the contents spilled out.
In the v-berth, things fell off of the upper shelves, and even though there is nonskid in between the tubs, it didn’t hold and tubs fell over, some spilling contents as snapped lids opened. Notice cookies on top of tubs are completely unharmed. Priorities.
Canned veggies, and other stuff in a pile, some of it has been put on the table, wedged together, it can’t move.
Things stuffed into boxes, tubs, and wedged in, we’ll be searching for items that got stuffed in the future. “Honey, where did, fill in blank, go?” Shrug…..
My clothes, and crafting falls to the floor, I mistakenly thought I’d secured things well enough. Notice in the background, the photo of my Mom, and Dad on their adventure to drive to Alaska in 1949.
Birthday, and Christmas cards are at the bottom of the heap, and spilling out the door. This is one of the areas that needed immediate cleanup if we wanted to use the bed.
We slept for 3 hours, and when we got a wind gust at 7:00am, we woke up. Naps were in order later in the day, as we picked up pieces a little at a time.
Even though we had this heavy chain on the Rubbermaid tub, we still lost this lid.
The securing lines on the weather cloths lining the back deck snapped, so they were flapping in the wind contributing to the noise, and this fabric doesn’t like chafe. It was already in the plans to replace them.
I held my violet plant almost the entire time, the one time I left her on the table, a wave crashed us, and she fell to the floor. This violet has been continuously blooming for so long, I don’t remember the last time it was without blooms, years. She fell out of her pot, and sheared off all the blooms, and a bunch of leaves. Repotting will have to wait till we get back to Wrangell, and I have my plant doctor, Dr. Katherine take a look, and give out some tender care advice.
I wore my
Relief Band the entire time, I assume it kept me from feeling nauseous .
Denali Rose took great care of us. She is a stout, well built boat, that can handle way more than her crew can. I’m glad we chose her to be our home.
Our tracks and the “trip” details. Average wind speed is correct, we regularly saw the 60-70+ gusts. We actually saw a 126 knot gust, but we are thinking that was an anomaly, and not correct.
Some take aways;
- The boat needs an interior overhaul, not that we’re going to put ourselves through that again, but we need to be more diligent about securing our possessions.
- If we see a storm coming, large or small, get some easy to eat, high protein food ready. Food intake for the day, Bill - one bowl of Cheerios, two protein bars, and a cereal bar, water. Donna - one bowl of Cheerios, and part of one protein bar, water. This was probably not enough to sustain energy.
- If things look dicey where we are, pull the anchor early, and head somewhere else if possible.
- Do WAY more boat prep in advance.
I’m not going to sugar coat my emotions, this event scared the hell out of me. Whenever I hear a wind gust now, I immediately look at the wind speed instrument, and my heart pounds. My boating buddy, and good friend Robin was online with me until about 1:00am by text, shoring me up with encouragement. I appreciate her more than I can say. Bill however was his usual rock solid, competent calm self. He tackled each problem as they arose, and handled the boat expertly. Even with standing at the helm for over 9 hours straight in the middle of the night, with hardly any food, he was alert, aware, and kept us safe. I could never do this lifestyle without him.
I didn’t expect it, but the Starlink stayed connected the entire time, I’m glad, as I tried to stay on top of weather updates, and so my friend could help me stay calm. (Mostly) I also texted a brother, and sis-in-law to pray protection for us, later, they said they prayed off and on throughout the night. I’m grateful for their love, and care.
Gus was a rockstar! He planted himself on my pillow in the back cabin and even with everything around him falling, he didn’t budge. He stayed there throughout, without food, water, or using the litter box. As soon as we shut down the engine, and I cleared a path he came out to get high praise, fresh water, a bowl of food, and a bathroom break. Good kitty!
An entry in the “Exploring Alaska & British Columbia Historical Reference Atlas” by Stephen E. Hilson
We had anchored in this bay in 2019, and when we left, our new impeller on the engine failed and we had to return and drop the anchor in the outer portion of the bay in order to fix it so the engine wouldn’t over heat. Twice bitten by the “curse”, I won’t be returning here for a third time.
It’ll take me awhile to put this behind me as we head back to Wrangell.
