Wild Ride in the Houtman Abrolhos
Tuesday April 26, 2022. Time 9.49pm
Text received from Ash Nesbit, Skipper of charter vessel Silverado
“Are you guys ok?”
“It’s been blowing 46 knots here at the Wallabis.”
We were already out of bed when this text came in. A weather system had been predicted to pass through the Houtman Abrolhos Island group Tuesday evening and it had arrived. We were tucked in at an anchorage next to Middle Island, located in the Pelsaert Group, which is the most southern group in the Houtman Abrolhos chain, some thirty plus miles south west of where Silverado was anchored.
Having had a semi-sleepless Monday night with winds in the mid-thirty knot range, we knew our ground tackle (anchor / chain etc) had held fast and had hoped it would be just more of the same.
Things hadn’t been too bad and after an early dinner, knowing weather was coming, we had gone to bed. Sleep didn’t last long and by the time the clock hit nine we were starting to see wind in the 40 knot range. We had company (thank God!) - there were four yachts and two motor yachts (referred to by us affectionately as stink boats) in the anchorage as well - with two of the yachts on the available public moorings. The rest of us were on anchor on a sand bed, about 8 metres deep. The anchorage is not massive, probably 400 metres wide by 800 metres in length with Middle Island to the south and coral bommies in all directions. There is only one way in and out and we were positioned at the top of the anchorage - closest to the exit/entry point, on the eastern end.
Things were getting hectic as we sustained west south west winds in the forty knot range and we put our storm plan into action. That meant clear work spaces - clear the saloon table and seating, tidy and lock down the kitchen and clear the rear cockpit and helm station. If we needed to take evasive action it would happen fast and we don’t want to be throwing stuff out of the way. Lifejackets and harnesses on - mainly if there was an issue and we needed to go on deck - we could secure ourselves; VHF marine radio onto Channel 16 - emergency channel ready to go - but more importantly monitoring in case someone else had an issue (not that we’d have any hope of assisting physically, but at least we could provide reassurance and maintain contact via radio). We also turn on our deck light, which is on the mast and illuminates the front deck - this helps others in the anchorage see us, plus if we had to go up on deck some light to guide. The chart plotter is on with the anchor watch running and this gives us not only wind speed, but depth and also a visual on our position. If we move outside our designated anchor arc, in this case 50 metres, then an alarm sounds. Importantly our track is also marked so we can monitor our position and see where we are moving in relation to the wind. Having depth indication also provides an additional reference point to confirm we are not moving.
Singularity is fitted with a Cel-Fi Go device - which has an antennae fitted on top of the mast to extend our phone coverage. Fortunately we had that up and running and so were able to receive internet and could look at the BOM radar, as well as see the wind speeds at North Island, the direction from which the front was coming. This helped provide us perspective on the system (and gauge roughly how much more we had to endure) and allowed the chat with Ash on Silverado. Comforting to say the least.
At 10pm things really got interesting and we peaked with a wind gust of 52knots. That’s about 97km/hour in case you were wondering….
It’s dark, the boat is bucking like a bronco, the wind noise is intense as it howls through the rigging and we are just hanging on with not too much being said. We have one eye on the other boats - two of the stink boats were wrestling with their 20 foot tenders at this point; and we had an eye on our neighbour about 50 metres away, a young bloke on a small yacht alone with two young kids! The other eye is on the chart plotter - watching our position but also looking at the wind speeds.
We (Nicky) did have one panic moment when the depth gauge struggled to cope with the conditions and was spitting out some pretty scary numbers. It had been consistently reading between 7.7 and 8.0 metres when all of a sudden (at the absolute peak of the wind), it started dropping.
”Pete! (trying to hide the fear and terror in my voice). The depth gauge is at 5.6… 4.8…. 3.2, 2.5! S#*&, we’re dragging! “
Pete, in his calm and calculated manner, looked out the window to our reference points (one of them being James and his girls on his yacht ‘Salty Jocks’) to ascertain that, in fact, we weren’t moving and the anchor was holding steadfast.
“Let’s buy a yacht!” jokes Pete as we well and truly earn our apprenticeship to the cruising life!
Ironically by about midnight the wind has dropped to the mid-thirties and we are remarking how much more comfortable it is - the night before we were stressing at mid-thirty knots!!
Things were now a bit more palatable so we take turns to try and grab some sleep, albeit on the couch in the saloon. The wind is moving anywhere between 25 and 35 knots and sustains this until the early hours of the morning. Fortunately, where we are anchored we don’t have swell - just wind chop. Frankly, if there was swell none of us would have seen the night out - we all would have dragged for sure.
Putting action plans into place goes a long way to helping us to manage the situation, however, as we’ve learnt, there’s no better preparation than actually experiencing these challenging situations first-hand. There are plenty of ‘what if?’ scenarios that go through your head (usually the ones that lead to impending doom), so it’s a really good opportunity to talk (or shout over the piercing, screeching sound of the wind) through possible scenarios in the moments where they seem all the more relevant. All part of the process of being just that little bit wiser, and more comfortable, the next time (although, let’s hope we don’t experience this again any time soon!)
The first fragments of light are welcomed and allows us to just put things in perspective in regards to our position, our neighbours and our boat. As soon as light allows we conduct a visual check of everything on Singularity to make sure all is good and quickly cast our eyes across our neighbours hoping they are all good too. It has been a long night and like us everyone in the anchorage is glad to see the morning.
We exchange a few text messages with Ash and also touch base with Paul Willison on Quiermarla who is at the Easter Group. Even Paul thought it was windy!!
After some sleep we muse over the previous night’s action, thank our anchor and Singularity for getting us through, and turn our thoughts to the next big questions - getting surf and spearing some more baldchin!
As they say, you need the sour to make the sweet even sweeter. Just not so sour next time please!!
