Multihulls in the deep blue
Although this deals with sailing cats--not many had much sail up by the time
it was over. It certainly deals with the ability of a group of at least
three cats to survive a storm--but also has some lessons for monohulls!
This relates to the Queens Birthday Day Storm in June 1994. Typically one
sails from Auckland N.Z. North to Fiji After the first week of April and
before the end of June. This should avoid the Souther Cyclone season and
the severe winter Gales. In 1994 there were a series of mild lows which
kept many mariners from leaving in April and May--none of these were
severe--but folks were waiting for "Ideal weather". However time crept up on
them. The meteriological scenerio is well described in the web site of
Steve Dashew at:
http://www.setsail.com/products/pdfs/qbs.pdf
The story unfolds as noted in the archives of Lat 38, June 1999:
'It's unclear exactly how many boats were caught in the core of the June '94
storm, but nine boats with a total of 24 crew issued maydays. One boat and
her three crew were never seen again. Seven other boats with 17 crew were
eventually rescued. One boat rescinded her mayday and made it to port under
her own power. What should make the Queen's Birthday Storm story so
interesting to you, .... is that two of the nine boats that issued maydays
were catamarans; one a homebuilt 39-footer, the other a Catalac 41. In
addition, there was a third catamaran, a 39-footer, on the periphery of the
core. The following is a quick rundown of all nine boats, their crews, and
what happened to each of them."
Also an analysis of the monohulls condensed:
"Five things stand out from the experience of the seven monohulls: 1)
Despite all efforts, it was virtually impossible to keep the boats from
ending up beam-to the seas, which resulted in five of the boats being
repeatedly knocked down or rolled. 2) Despite trailing drogues, two of the
boats pitchpoled. 3) No matter if the seven monohulls pitchpoled or rolled,
all of them lost their masts. 4) As a result of the pitchpoles, knockdowns,
and rollovers, many of the crews suffered serious injuries. 4) Having a ship
come alongside to effect a rescue was extremely difficult and dangerous for
everyone involved. 5) Perhaps the most amazing thing is how well the seven
boats held up to the unthinkably horrible conditions; had it not been for
scuttling or collisions with rescuing ships, six of them would have
continued to float. The age-old admonition to never leave a boat until it's
underwater would seem as true as ever."
Now for the catamarans:
"Ramtha, a 38-foot Roger Simpson designed modern-style catamaran from
Australia, with a husband and wife crew with five years of coastal cruising
experience and some offshore experience: The crew had set a drogue several
days before the storm to fix her steering, but had to cut it loose when they
were unable to pull it back up. Ultimately, they found themselves in 70
knots of wind and 40 foot seas, conditions so bad that the 4,000-ton ship
Monowai, coming to their rescue, rolled as much as 48º in each direction,
injuring three of her crew. Despite four reefs, Ramtha's main blew to shreds
and her steering system became inoperable. With nothing but her twin engines
available for maneuvering, being aboard her was like "going down a mountain
in a wooden box" or being on a "roller coaster that never stopped." The boat
slid down waves forward, sideways, and backwards. Several times it seemed as
though she might flip, but she never did. Ultimately, Monowai shot a line to
Ramtha's crew, but missed. While the line gun was being reloaded, Ramtha's
crew began to get strong second thoughts about leaving the boat, feeling he
was doing fine on her own despite being crippled. Nonetheless, they attached
their harnesses when the second line landed on their boat, and were dragged
several hundred feet ÷ often underwater ÷ to and up the side of the ship.
After abandoning the cat, the owners gave her up for lost. A week or so
later, they were stunned to learn that the boat had been found ÷ upright and
in surprisingly good shape! After settling a salvage claim with another
yachtie, they eventually sailed her back to Oz where they began rebuilding
the cruising kitty.
Heart Light, a 41-foot Catalac U.S.-based catamaran with a crew of four; a
husband and wife couple with 16,000 ocean miles, and two crew with no
offshore experience: Despite having 16,000 miles ocean experience, the
captain and wife claimed to have not steered the boat except near the dock
and to have never jibed between the States and New Zealand. Heart Light was
a heavy, solid fiberglass, narrow catamaran. Nevertheless, she did
reasonably well, surfing at between 6 and 13 knots while dragging a drogue.
When the autopilot couldn't handle it any longer, the skipper finally
learned how to steer, working desperately to prevent waves from slewing the
stern in front of the bow. Eventually, both engines went down and lines
fouled both rudders. They tied off the helm to port and slid sideways down
waves. Despite being "captapulted" through the air on many occasions and
being knocked onto one hull several other times, she endured. When the
rescue ship arrived, her captain noted that the boat "appeared seaworthy and
was riding comfortably in the improved weather." When the captain said he
couldn't tow the boat, Heart Light's first mate, a New Age visionary, talked
the ship's captain into a weird agreement: they would only allow themselves
to be rescued if he promised to ram Heart Light until she sank. The woman's
theory was that the sinking boat would be a lighthouse guiding the forces of
good through seven layers of reality into our currently evil world.
Something like that ÷ and yes, she wrote a book. The ship's captain
complied, and Heart Light sank after being rammed several times.
The third catamaran, a 40-footer, carried a deeply reefed main and furled
jib in slightly lighter conditions outside of the core. She experienced no
serious problems.
There are several interesting things about the two catamarans in the core
area of the storm: 1) Neither of them pitchpoled; 2) Neither of them flipped
÷ although the crews thought they came close; 3) Neither of them were
dismasted; 4) Both of them apparently would have survived ÷ by surfing
forwards, sideways, and backwards ÷ had they just been left alone.
Does this mean that multihulls are actually safer in very severe weather
than monohulls? We ÷ who own both a monohull and a catamaran ÷ certainly
wouldn't leap to that conclusion. After all, there were several other
monohulls in the core area of the storm that didn't even issue maydays and
survived the storm with very little damage. And while it's much too small a
sample on which to base any firm conclusions on, the performance of the
catamarans in the storm nonetheless had some influence on our deciding to
build a cat for our next charterboat.
By the way, most of the factual information presented above comes from
Rescue In The Pacific, a well-written and well-documented account of the
Queen's Birthday Storm by Tony Farrington. The book is still in print, "
.....
"
Regarding a preference between having to bail out of a sinking monohull into
a liferaft versus trying to cling to a flipped multihull in raging seas: The
survivors of the eight boats listed above pretty much seemed to agree that
getting into a liferaft at the height of the storm would have been
impossible and in any event a death sentence. The fact that only one of the
boats sank on its own is more evidence that getting into a liferaft should
be the ultimate last resort. Indeed, when Quicksilver's liferaft was
spotted, it was bouncing over the water almost like a beach ball.
Staying with an upturned multihull is usually not as bad as it might sound.
In 1993, the trimaran Rose Noelle flipped between New Zealand and Tonga, and
her crew survived on her for five months. When finally found, they were in
such fine condition that many accused them of having pulled a prank. There's
also the famous case of Rich Wilson and Bill Biewenga, who flipped the
trimaran Great American in the process of trying to set a San Francisco to
Boston record. They were quite happy to be inside the inverted boat off
South America, as it was more stable than right side up. Alas, the huge seas
flipped the tri back up! The production cats of the recent past have mostly
been designed for charter work and therefore are quite heavy and have
relatively small sail plans. In the unlikely event you could flip one, the
habitation space would probably be quite habitable. But that's not true with
all cats. About 10 years ago, the then already old cat Atalanta flipped in
bad weather off Mexico. The two crew nearly died of exposure."
I knew several of the folks in the monohulls--and the majority never went
back to sea...
Regards,
Bob Austin
Bob - this is exactly the article I remember. It's a
great commentary on many things - including
catamarans, liferafts, and weather prediction.
Fortunately, it's not often we get such a case-study -
maybe every 10 years or so (Fastnet, Sydney-Hobart,
Queens B-day Storm). Not coincidentally, only the
Queens B-Day Storm hit cruisers hard - we usually do a
pretty good job of monitoring weather and reducing
risk by selecting known periods of relaxed weather
patterns.
Thanks for the research Bob.
Peter
www.SeaSkills.com
--- Bob Austin thataway4@cox.net wrote:
Although this deals with sailing cats--not many had
much sail up by the time
it was over. It certainly deals with the ability of
a group of at least
three cats to survive a storm--but also has some
lessons for monohulls!
This relates to the Queens Birthday Day Storm in
June 1994. Typically one
sails from Auckland N.Z. North to Fiji After the
first week of April and
before the end of June. This should avoid the
Souther Cyclone season and
the severe winter Gales. In 1994 there were a
series of mild lows which
kept many mariners from leaving in April and
May--none of these were
severe--but folks were waiting for "Ideal weather".
However time crept up on
them. The meteriological scenerio is well
described in the web site of
Steve Dashew at:
http://www.setsail.com/products/pdfs/qbs.pdf
The story unfolds as noted in the archives of Lat
38, June 1999:
'It's unclear exactly how many boats were caught in
the core of the June '94
storm, but nine boats with a total of 24 crew issued
maydays. One boat and
her three crew were never seen again. Seven other
boats with 17 crew were
eventually rescued. One boat rescinded her mayday
and made it to port under
her own power. What should make the Queen's Birthday
Storm story so
interesting to you, .... is that two of the nine
boats that issued maydays
were catamarans; one a homebuilt 39-footer, the
other a Catalac 41. In
addition, there was a third catamaran, a 39-footer,
on the periphery of the
core. The following is a quick rundown of all nine
boats, their crews, and
what happened to each of them."
Also an analysis of the monohulls condensed:
"Five things stand out from the experience of the
seven monohulls: 1)
Despite all efforts, it was virtually impossible to
keep the boats from
ending up beam-to the seas, which resulted in five
of the boats being
repeatedly knocked down or rolled. 2) Despite
trailing drogues, two of the
boats pitchpoled. 3) No matter if the seven
monohulls pitchpoled or rolled,
all of them lost their masts. 4) As a result of the
pitchpoles, knockdowns,
and rollovers, many of the crews suffered serious
injuries. 4) Having a ship
come alongside to effect a rescue was extremely
difficult and dangerous for
everyone involved. 5) Perhaps the most amazing thing
is how well the seven
boats held up to the unthinkably horrible
conditions; had it not been for
scuttling or collisions with rescuing ships, six of
them would have
continued to float. The age-old admonition to never
leave a boat until it's
underwater would seem as true as ever."
Now for the catamarans:
"Ramtha, a 38-foot Roger Simpson designed
modern-style catamaran from
Australia, with a husband and wife crew with five
years of coastal cruising
experience and some offshore experience: The crew
had set a drogue several
days before the storm to fix her steering, but had
to cut it loose when they
were unable to pull it back up. Ultimately, they
found themselves in 70
knots of wind and 40 foot seas, conditions so bad
that the 4,000-ton ship
Monowai, coming to their rescue, rolled as much as
48� in each direction,
injuring three of her crew. Despite four reefs,
Ramtha's main blew to shreds
and her steering system became inoperable. With
nothing but her twin engines
available for maneuvering, being aboard her was like
"going down a mountain
in a wooden box" or being on a "roller coaster that
never stopped." The boat
slid down waves forward, sideways, and backwards.
Several times it seemed as
though she might flip, but she never did.
Ultimately, Monowai shot a line to
Ramtha's crew, but missed. While the line gun was
being reloaded, Ramtha's
crew began to get strong second thoughts about
leaving the boat, feeling he
was doing fine on her own despite being crippled.
Nonetheless, they attached
their harnesses when the second line landed on their
boat, and were dragged
several hundred feet � often underwater � to and up
the side of the ship.
After abandoning the cat, the owners gave her up for
lost. A week or so
later, they were stunned to learn that the boat had
been found � upright and
in surprisingly good shape! After settling a salvage
claim with another
yachtie, they eventually sailed her back to Oz where
they began rebuilding
the cruising kitty.
Heart Light, a 41-foot Catalac U.S.-based catamaran
with a crew of four; a
husband and wife couple with 16,000 ocean miles, and
two crew with no
offshore experience: Despite having 16,000 miles
ocean experience, the
captain and wife claimed to have not steered the
boat except near the dock
and to have never jibed between the States and New
Zealand. Heart Light was
a heavy, solid fiberglass, narrow catamaran.
Nevertheless, she did
reasonably well, surfing at between 6 and 13 knots
while dragging a drogue.
When the autopilot couldn't handle it any longer,
the skipper finally
learned how to steer, working desperately to prevent
waves from slewing the
stern in front of the bow. Eventually, both engines
went down and lines
fouled both rudders. They tied off the helm to port
and slid sideways down
waves. Despite being "captapulted" through the air
on many occasions and
being knocked onto one hull several other times, she
endured. When the
rescue ship arrived, her captain noted that the boat
"appeared seaworthy and
was riding comfortably in the improved weather."
When the captain said he
couldn't tow the boat, Heart Light's first mate, a
New Age visionary, talked
the ship's captain into a weird agreement: they
would only allow themselves
to be rescued if he promised to ram Heart Light
until she sank. The woman's
theory was that the sinking boat would be a
lighthouse guiding the forces of
good through seven layers of reality into our
currently evil world.
Something like that � and yes, she wrote a book. The
ship's captain
complied, and Heart Light sank after being rammed
several times.
The third catamaran, a 40-footer, carried a deeply
reefed main and furled
jib in slightly lighter conditions outside of the
core. She experienced no
serious problems.
There are several interesting things about the two
catamarans in the core
area of the storm: 1) Neither of them pitchpoled; 2)
Neither of them flipped
� although the crews thought they came close; 3)
Neither of them were
dismasted; 4) Both of them apparently would have
survived � by surfing
forwards, sideways, and backwards � had they just
been left alone.
Does this mean that multihulls are actually safer in
very severe weather
than monohulls? We � who own both a monohull and a
catamaran � certainly
wouldn't leap to that conclusion. After all, there
were several other
monohulls in the core area of the storm that didn't
even issue maydays and
survived the storm with very little damage. And
while it's much too small a
sample on which to base any firm conclusions on, the
performance of the
catamarans in the storm nonetheless had some
influence on our deciding to
build a cat for our next charterboat.
By the way, most of the factual information
presented above comes from
Rescue In The Pacific, a well-written and
well-documented account of the
Queen's Birthday Storm by Tony Farrington. The book
is still in print, "
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