The short 3.5 mile jump from Monaco to Menton turned into a nightmare. Meteo prediction was for "Force 2 winds and cloud cover." Anyone can handle that in their sleep. Left the port, put up all the sails, sat back, was about to worry about music selection on the stereo when whitecaps and a substantial swell arrived suddenly. Went down to two reefs and a reefed jib. There was so much wind that when Guizmo jumped from the wavetops and splashed the waves, the splash on the windward side would come into the cockpit in its entireity, without a wasted drop. Which is fine, it's what foul weather gear is for, except it sucks to plan for a nice warm outing and instead have to trade your soaked clean clothing for foulies. The wind was only around 25-30 knots, which is still totally fine and nothing Guizmo has not faced before. But the thunderstorm was a bit too much. I heard some rumbles, and tried to attribute them to planes on approach to Nice, except it was pretty clear these weren't planes. I hate lightning storms at sea. The tall mast on a mini makes me feel like I'm doing a peer-review replica of Benjamin Franklin's experiment, and I know what happened to Franklin's assistants in that experiment.
Approximately 0.8 miles away from Port Vieux Menton, the big cloud cover reached the boat, the wind died down, Guizmo's engine lost her groove again, and the lightning was all around us. Sitting in the cabin and waiting out lightning flashes was an interesting experience. Tossed out the sea anchor, but the action of the waves must have undone the knot, as it was lost (incidentally, first time I lost anything overboard on this trip). I was slowly moving towards the shore, and thought, "ok, it's safer over there anyway, and if I get really close, I'll drop the anchor and try to hook land before I hit it." I tried to hail someone on the VHF, but no one responded on channels 9 or 16 to my first-ever PAN-PAN call (though it later turned out that the portmaster actually heard my call). I called the port on the cellphone and asked for a tow, also for the first time, but the connection was bad and the fellow was in the worst mood: he understood my plight, but said that he was alone at the pier and could not help. It seems odd that he could not ask someone else. I can only hope that Dante's hell has a special level designed for these beaurocrats, where they get pitchforked in hellfire with random devil's helpers who frolick all around them, could help them if they wanted to but don't because of a badly-written policy document. That level will undoubtedly be reserved for French government workers and AT&T employees.
Suddenly, the clouds cleared, there was an enormous rainbow, and Stella the engine started working again. I pulled into the port, had a nice conversation with the portmaster where I acted all cool like nothing had happened. He was a bit sheepish and overly nice to me, like he knew what he did was wrong, which gave me a bit of hope for mankind.
In the end, the storm was probably no big deal for any real pro sailor, but it was a little over my comfort level. Will check Greek meteo, reputed to be much better for the Med than any other, religiously from now on. No pics, even of the rainbow, as it was too wet to take out the camera.
Approximately 0.8 miles away from Port Vieux Menton, the big cloud cover reached the boat, the wind died down, Guizmo's engine lost her groove again, and the lightning was all around us. Sitting in the cabin and waiting out lightning flashes was an interesting experience. Tossed out the sea anchor, but the action of the waves must have undone the knot, as it was lost (incidentally, first time I lost anything overboard on this trip). I was slowly moving towards the shore, and thought, "ok, it's safer over there anyway, and if I get really close, I'll drop the anchor and try to hook land before I hit it." I tried to hail someone on the VHF, but no one responded on channels 9 or 16 to my first-ever PAN-PAN call (though it later turned out that the portmaster actually heard my call). I called the port on the cellphone and asked for a tow, also for the first time, but the connection was bad and the fellow was in the worst mood: he understood my plight, but said that he was alone at the pier and could not help. It seems odd that he could not ask someone else. I can only hope that Dante's hell has a special level designed for these beaurocrats, where they get pitchforked in hellfire with random devil's helpers who frolick all around them, could help them if they wanted to but don't because of a badly-written policy document. That level will undoubtedly be reserved for French government workers and AT&T employees.
Suddenly, the clouds cleared, there was an enormous rainbow, and Stella the engine started working again. I pulled into the port, had a nice conversation with the portmaster where I acted all cool like nothing had happened. He was a bit sheepish and overly nice to me, like he knew what he did was wrong, which gave me a bit of hope for mankind.
In the end, the storm was probably no big deal for any real pro sailor, but it was a little over my comfort level. Will check Greek meteo, reputed to be much better for the Med than any other, religiously from now on. No pics, even of the rainbow, as it was too wet to take out the camera.
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