Wave Trios - August 2021

Our last visitor for the month of August was our friend Shari, who ditched her family and drove north to check out the Perseverance. We decided to revisit Fayette State Park since Shari is an astronomer and a big fan of dark skies. We had an easy voyage over (much appreciated by our slightly nervous passenger) and were indeed treated to another nice viewing of Jupiter and Saturn in the pitch black.

The next day, however, was blowy. It was a strong south wind, which means that the waves had considerable “fetch,” since the wind had the full north-south length of Lake Michigan to build up their size before assaulting us at the north end of the Green Bay. Before setting off, we waited a few hours till some other fools left the harbor first and the small craft weather advisory had technically expired for the general region. Shari grimly engaged all her anti-seasickness devices, drugs, amulets, potions and charms, and I put an empty waste can within easy reach. With Lori at the helm and Shari solidly planted on the pilot house bench – eyes locked onto the horizon, we powered out into a bright, but stern-looking Big Bay de Noc.

The chop near the harbor soon gave way to 3-foot swells, but the boat seemed unperturbed, diesel thumping pleasantly along. In the more open water, the swells grew to 4-foot, and then 5-foot. Lori was still easily maintaining our normal cruising speed of 8+ knots, but things were starting to get tossed loose. While we had experienced some roll (side-to-side motion) before in the Perseverance, the stabilizers usually were able to keep that motion relatively tame. A big pitching motion (nose up/down) was new.

As the loudest crashing noises were coming from the salon, I headed there first. Silverware was flying out of the fore-aft oriented galley drawers. While dodging a fork, I took a glancing blow on the noggin from our last remaining ceramic coffee mug, which then shattered spectacularly into shards on the tile floor. Our trusty roll of Gaff tape was employed to hold the galley drawers and cupboard doors closed and I managed to cram everything else that had gotten loose into the sink. In response to a shouted order from Lori, I retrieved a cold can of bubbly water to hand to an increasingly green-looking (I am told) looking Shari. Heading into the cabins and below decks, I expended more Gaff tape to secure every fore-aft oriented compartment before they all tore themselves from their frames. The engine room was intact, all our tools and bins nicely wedged into place.

With all the loudest items now better battened down, I headed back up to enjoy the view. Aside from the loose items, the Perseverance seemed to be happy as a clam, plowing straight into the weather. The tumblehome of the bow did a pretty good job of directing the spray mostly outward, though the wipers were in fairly steady use. The pitching was now far too violent to venture out on deck, but I did stretch myself far enough out the two open pilot house doors to release the latches and get them closed so that the bow spray quit blasting inside. Lori said several unkind things to me for doing so, but she was busy clinging to the dash and helm chair and couldn’t get out to do anything to me other than yell.

Since we were looking at another few hours of pounding, and Shari appeared to be holding steady, I shoved a cassette into the tape deck and rummaged up some snacks. According to our Chapmans Piloting guide, waves on open waters tend to come in threes, with the last one tending to pack extra power. I don’t know why this is, but it certainly was true on this voyage. The third one of a trio always looked bigger bearing down on us and would really hammer the bow just as the nose was dropping from the previous wave, with heavy bow spray clear over the pilot house. In time, it became apparent that although the boat was certainly getting a serious thumping, it was perfectly happy in these conditions. There was no roll, the rudder was responsive, and the propulsion kept driving us forward with nary a concern, comment nor pause. She was all business. The crew simply needed to hang on tight.

It was about then that Lori and I both started to really believe that the Perseverance truly was seaworthy and built for rough service on the great lakes. We had already been convinced of that intellectually, but it really is another thing when you are inexperienced and far from shore in conditions that look scary. We were both making light of the seas as they were building in intensity, because we didn’t want to alarm our green (literally) passenger, but in reality, we were more than a bit concerned till things settled out at 5+ foot seas, which the boat handled with aplomb. The Nesses had told us of trips in genuine gales with waves over the bow, but stories are different from direct experience.

Anyhow, Lori eventually needed to change course a couple times which gave us new combinations of wave induced pitch, roll, yaw and wallowing (the Perseverance really hates following seas on her rear quarter). Shari got back to more normal coloring, and Lori docked the boat perfectly back in Esky. We all breathed a sigh of relief, but the boat nonchalantly powered down and settled into her berth, seemingly pleased with having finally had a good run.