Spooked

On The Hudson River
40 5325 N 073 55.65 W

I suppose you think that cruising sailors like us are brave souls who never show a hint of fear. That's not entirely true. Sometimes we get spooked just like anyone else, and not always for good reasons

The other day, as we were about to put out to sea, I got spooked when passing out the entrance to Hampton Roads, Virginia. It was irrational. Nothing in particular triggered it; the weather forecast for coming days was fine. Anyhow, I turned around and headed back toward Hampton, thinking that we would stay the night. Just seconds later, I changed my mind again, and turned back to the original course. Of course everything turned out fine. So what spooked me? I suspect that it was a wave of drowsiness. You see, it was the time for my afternoon nap. Several times in the past, when faced with the choice between a sea passage and the opportunity for a good sleep, I've found the urge to sleep clouding my good judgment. Anyhow, that's a theory.

A few days later, there was no mystery about what spooked me. It was 5 o'clock in the afternoon and we had just arrived at Sandy Hook after 50 hours at sea. It was still three hours to dark, and the timing of the tide was perfect. We could have continued on into New York Harbor with a 2.5 knot boost from the tidal current. Just then though I heard the Coast Guard on channel 16 passing on a message about weather. I turned to the NOAA weather channel. That channel was abuzz with alarming warnings about severe thunderstorms. When they give severe thunderstorm alerts, they recite the names of all the counties alerted, and the names of the towns that the storms will pass. There were storms all around us, in Connecticut, New York and New Jersey. I kept listening for the names of places near us that I could recognize. The recitation of place names went on and on. It reminded me to the half-hour long list of school closings that they used to read on the radio on snow days. Finally, I heard them mention the Verrazano Narrows. That was only 3 miles away. I was spooked.

They said that the storm would bring hail, intense rain, cloud to ground lightning, and 60 mph winds. Mariners should seek immediate shelter. That's severe. I thought about our proposed anchorage near the Coast Guard station in Sandy Hook. I worried about being too close to a lee shore, freshly anchored, uncertain of the holding, and totally exposed to the West and North. That's a pretty insecure feeling. I thought of finding a more secure place, but the nearest was 90 minutes away.

Anyhow, by the time we reached the anchorage, it was clear that the storm we named was going to miss us. Good. We anchored, went below decks and had a peaceful dinner. Then we were ready for bed, being tired after our passage. I set the VHF radio to automatically trigger upon an emergency weather alert. You know. You hear it when they play those strange tones and squacks on the radio that trigger weather radios to turn themselves on. Before we climbed into bed, the darn thing went off. It makes ear piercing shrieks when it is triggered, enough to make the hair on your head stand up. The alert said that there was another severe storm spotted at 19:30 heading for Staten Island, Raritan Bay and Sandy Hook at 20 mph. That's us! The alert also said that it should reach Sandy Hook by 20:20. Wait a minute? It is already 20:20 I thought. I went up on deck to look around. I could see the storm and the lightning far to the North. The alert was clearly in error. The storm moved in a direction different than what they said, and the timing of the alert was delayed 30 to 60 minutes. Still, I was now doubly spooked. Should I sit up on anchor watch, or go to bed? In the end, fatigue got to me. I went to bed. (p.s. The storm never did hit us.)

I'm becoming increasingly fed up with the overly alarmist NOAA weather reports and alerts. Listening regularly to NOAA radio would make one never want to leave home. I suspect that they are playing the cover-your-ass game. They get severely criticized if they provide inadequate warning and someone gets hurt. They get almost no criticism and no liability if they overly warn. I can't prove those suspicions but still... I hate disregarding their warnings totally; that would be overreaction. Therefore, I have to listen and then decide myself what to disregard. The problem is that it leaves us with nagging doubts and anxiety after ignoring such strident warnings.