Andrew Simpson
Extra precautions are called for in the marina in tense anticipation of Tropical Storm Bret
All sailors must be mindful of the weather, but some have more cause to be than others. Shindig had just been lifted out at Spice Island Marina, a well-run outfit situated at the southern tip of Grenada. This was in anticipation of the hurricane season which roughly spans the period from early July to late November. As arrangements go this works well, since it provides a shorebound window to return to Europe; there, amongst other things, to enjoy the company of the family at large. It also soothes our marine insurers, who reward us with worthwhile discounts for so thoughtfully embracing a safer environment.
I was in the marina’s office sorting out the paperwork when one of the yard owners hove into view. ‘Looks like a storm brewing,’ he said cheerfully, spreading out an emailed meteorological print-off. Sure enough, a depression had formed off the West African coast. ‘It’s early in the season,’ he said, ‘but I reckon it could develop into something nasty.’
And he was right on both counts. Firstly, it was early in the season – though no times are immune. Were it not for other obligations we could have stayed afloat for another couple of weeks or so. Secondly, it did turn nasty enough to be christened Tropical Storm Bret, under which title it was soon to cross the Atlantic, gathering strength with every mile. Bret has the distinction of being the earliest tropical storm to have developed in these waters since 1851.
The significance to me was worrying. Shindig had been ashore only a few hours and was still supported by relatively rickety steel shores and wedges. Not good enough, were the terms of our insurance. The boat must reside in what they define as a ‘one-piece’ cradle – which are more accurately an assembly of several pieces bolted together to form an integrated structure; as shown in the heading photo. Moreover, like Gulliver in the land of Lilliput, the hull must be strapped down to ‘sand screws’ driven into the ground or similar anchorages – large concrete blocks being a popular alternative. Also, because of the possible domino effect arising from perhaps just a single boat toppling, all investing in these extra precautions should be grouped together, leaving the others to take their chances.
I voiced my concern to the yard hands. 'No problem, Skip,' I was told. 'Plenty of time to build the cradle.' And so it proved. Within hours of our conversation, Shindig was as secure as could be practically devised.
In the event, for Grenada it all proved mercifully anticlimactic. Bret passed south of the island to deliver a larruping to Tobago, Trinidad and parts of Venezuela. Winds peaked at 60mph, with the kind of exuberant heavy rain which is rarely seen in the UK. There was significant damage. And Grenada didn’t escape unscathed. It also bucketed down here, causing a few minor mud slides and damage to roads. In hurricane terms, the winds rose to nothing more assertive than gale force.
The following day I was discussing this whole issue with a sailing couple, advancing my new-born opinion that, when laying your boat up, it would be nice if we all took the protective steps described in this article. Our fellow sailor was unimpressed. ‘To be honest, I would be delighted if our boat were destroyed. We’ve being trying to sell it for a couple of years now and would be happy to pocket its insured value. And we’re not the only ones. Think about the yard owners. There are boats laid up here that haven’t received attention for decades. You can bet your bottom dollar there’s a raft of money owed that they’ll never get a sniff of. I reckon they might welcome the occasional purge.’
Cynical? Yes. But with a certain ring of truth.
Bret has the distinction of being the earliest tropical storm to have developed in these waters since 1851