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"Serene
and Savage Sea"
Trond
narrowly escaped a storm experience, which he describes
below.
"On
Memorial Day of 2000 a vicious, surprise Nor'easter
came out of nowhere and attacked the Atlantic coastal waters off Cape Hatteras. Five veteran, ocean cruising sailboats
were innocently transiting the area at the time - one as far
offshore as 150 nautical miles - and they were all expecting the forecasted, somewhat unpleasant
conditions of 25 knot winds out of the NW to NE, and some thunderstorms
and rain associated with
the passage of a moderate cold front.
Instead,
an unforeseen 'weather bomb' exploded over the area. During a 6 hour
period the weather deteriorated from innocuously calm to vicious,
survival conditions. Shipboard barometer readings plunged as though suddenly
unplugged, our own eventually dropping to a low of 987 mbar during
the apparent peak of the storm in the mid-afternoon. This is a very low value not at
all atypical of a serious hurricane! Our little boats were lashed
by
the Nor'easter's winds that gusted violently to hurricane force and
shredded thick, Dacron sails like flimsy cotton dresses. Chaotic,
confused churning seas reaching over 30' pounded and tossed our fragile boats, which were
eventually all knocked down, rolled, or otherwise beaten into submission and disabled.
I
was aboard the 46 foot 'Cariad', a high performance, open ocean sailing
yacht. Headed for Annapolis, Maryland, from my home in South
Florida, I and my two sailing friends Sue and Paolo found ourselves
ambushed by the storm just a dozen
or so miles off North Carolina's Outer Banks, trapped midway between Cape Hatteras
and Cape Henry, which were at least 12 hours away in either direction. Completely
exposed to the storm barreling down on us out of the Northeast, we had precious little
sea-room. We were being pushed towards certain death on either the Outer Banks or Cape
Hatteras itself, and we had absolutely no hope of escaping into the safety of a
harbor. With malicious intent, the vicious storm scored a perfect
bull's eye on our little boat.
Sustaining substantial damage to sails, hull and rigging, 'Cariad' finally suffered a severe, punishing knockdown that
inflicted a potentially fatal injury to Sue's head. At this point
we were all battered, bruised, injured, exhausted and hypothermic, and Sue's serious injury
forced us to get her to a hospital quickly. We radioed a "Mayday",
waited for the Coast Guard to find our almost invisible white boat in a
foamy white ocean, and eventually jumped into the Ocean so that we could be
fished out to safety by the waiting
Coast Guard helicopter. I and my compatriots were flown
to the nearest Hospital in North Carolina, where Sue's severe head injury was
thoroughly examined and immediately treated
- thankfully, without complication. Paolo's broken fingers
were x-rayed and set in a splint. I suffered only hypothermia, like
the others, and quickly found myself in the warm comfort and safety of a
quiet motel room.
I
have had a lifelong love of the Ocean - she has bestowed on me some of the
most glorious and positive experiences of my life. But, she can
also be a deadly, malicious monster. I both love and fear
Her, and do my best to only experience her benevolent personality.
I
wrote "Serene and Savage Sea" to try to capture some of the
elements of my relationship with the Ocean, as well as a notable passage
around Cape Hatteras - the Graveyard of the Atlantic - and,
finally, the vicious 2000 Memorial Day Storm."
If you like, you can go below to listen to the
piece in each of its three movements. You may prefer this
option, if you have a slow internet connection. Otherwise, here's
the full version.
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