I am a Weather Brat. I first recognized this on our passage from the Galapagos to the Marquesas when Les called me on it. We had had beautifully calm, eat on the flybridge, perfect trawler weather for days on end, when in an effort to get out of our adverse current and into a favorable one, we steered away from that oh so calm latitude that I’d bonded with. With our course change, came the swell, winds and attendant seas, and happily for the captain, the favorable current. For me, I went into a funk. Every attempt to move around the boat was an effort. Bye-bye gourmet meals….Bye-bye flybridge ambience….Bye-bye good humor. So one day, not too long after we had exited the doldrums, Les looked at me and said something along the lines of “The weather changed for the worse, and it just pisses you off, doesn’t it?” Eureka!! “Yes!” I shouted. “That’s it! I’m just pissed off!!” That’s when it hit me…..I am a Weather Brat. Well, they say that admitting you have a problem is something like 90% of the solution, and indeed, so it was that after a brief period of sadness, I happily went on from that day, accepting the weather we got dealt until reaching Hiva Oa.
It’s not so much that I hate foul weather (although I do), it’s more that I love good weather. Take for example this passage we’re on now from New Zealand to Vanuatu. The weather window looked pretty good as the days progressed towards leaving Marsden Cove, but as our departure drew nearer, the forecast kept changing every few hours. There was a low coming up from the Tasman Sea that we’d need to stay ahead of in order to have my beloved trawler weather. The problem became that no one could accurately say how far north this low would travel and what the weather would be beyond it. What if it moved faster than the current prediction? We would have large and uncomfortable head winds. Add to that the large swell that was ahead of this low, and you have a recipe for misery. I know this because we had it on the last passage from Fiji to New Zealand. Thank you…..No. But, there was also a chance this could be a near-perfect trawler window if the lows, highs, and depressions behaved themselves. Now there’s a concept for you: Well-behaved weather.
…..Or Chaotic. There-in lies the consternation. The phase most often used to describe this state of affairs amongst cruisers? Analysis Paralysis. Sound familiar? I like to call it hand-wringing, because that’s me, and angst because, well that’s me too. Or maybe gnashing of teeth. Paralysis? Not so much…
We did, of course, decide to risk the window because it would be yet another week or 10 days before the next one presented itself (due, I might add to that massive low coming up from the Tasman), and we really wanted to get moving. Anyway, thankfully, this window has been quite good for us thus far. The first day was okay, a little chop left over from the winds that preceded our window, but certainly tolerable. We had a bit of a washboard as we left the lee of New Zealand overnight, reminding me that my stowing skills were a tad rusty, but then it calmed and the second day was marvelous, with winds less than 10kts. True, we still had the large swell off our port quarter, but Mystic is a happy girl with anything behind the beam, and there were no big winds to kick up a nasty chop. The third day was almost as pleasant, although we had some clouds and rain, but no big winds. That night, though, began our headwinds. This was the part of the forecast that Bob McDavitt had warned us about “….going to have to experience some NW winds on Monday night, but for less than 24hr, we will have to grin and bear that…” (Ouch! Even Bob McD knows I’m a Weather Brat). But beyond this event, lay the “what-ifs”. Well-behaved or chaotic??
Quite happily, if I do say so myself, the northerly winds did last less than 24 hours, so we did “grin and bear it” (thank you, Bob) and by nightfall of the 4th day, Voila! Our requested trawler weather had returned. Upon awakening from a nap to take my 2200 to 0200 watch that night, I was ecstatic to find the leftover wind and chop rapidly abating, and by the end of my watch, I was positively giddy, with winds less than 5 knots and a gorgeous oily sea perfectly reflecting the rising moon. In fact, I was so excited, I could barely sleep on my off-watch. I’d lay in bed turn over, smile, giggle, do a little happy thing with my feet, and whisper yesssss!!! And turn over and do it all again. Pathetic, isn’t it? I may be a Weather Brat, but I love, love, LOVE those days and nights that are like this! The serenity and tranquility that their beauty brings to me are difficult to explain….
Yet….I do wonder….is there 12-step program for this?
You may think we spend an inordinate amount of time thinking and talking about the weather. That’s only because we do. We live it, breathe it, have it for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Rinse and repeat. It has the power to rule our lives. Oh wait…..It does…..
And we’re not alone. Cruisers, such as ourselves, usually find themselves discussing weather, especially in a place like New Zealand where to go anywhere in any direction is at least 1000nm. And the Southern Ocean influences most of those miles. Our sailing friends (who represent 98% of our cruising buddies) often talk about a “good” weather window. I’ll point out that the forecast is for 25kt winds for 80% of the passage, and all they say is “Think how fast it’ll be!” Fast? Fast??? Give me two weeks in the doldrums, and I’m a happy clam. I could quite happily spend weeks meandering in the doldrums, so long as our fuel holds out. Heck…..Do I have trouble sleeping when it’s blowing snot and we’re rolling like a banshee? Of course not! It’s the only way to escape the misery of the reality….Blessed escapist sleep to dream about my Happy Place, a place that has calm seas, serene weather, and beauty next to none. What I call Good Weather. Trawler Weather. Nay, Paradise at Sea.
So….Back to the beginning here….I’ve been thinking a lot about what Les said that day a couple of years ago, and I think I have it figured out. I was simply grieving the loss of my perfect weather. Don’t the steps of grieving go denial, anger, sadness, and finally acceptance? That pretty much describes my feelings when our good weather window goes bad. See….I’m not really a Weather Brat….I’m just grieving a loss. Saying good-bye to what feels like a good friend. Where is my sympathy here? I share this with the Captain, and he just rolls his eyes, and says, “You’re over-thinking this, Princess….”
Lovely…..Now I need to find yet another self-help group.
Well, call it what you will. Weather Brat or not, I’m back in my Happy Place, watching the Gannets swoon and dip off our bow and the Shearwater squadrons skim over top the wave-less waters. The sun is shining, the wind is less than 5 knots and the sea sparkles like so many diamonds dumped out across a royal-blue field of velvet. The fishing lines are out, and I can almost taste the fresh tuna for dinner. Life is pretty damn sweet, and I’d like to stay here for a while, if you don’t mind.
Are we home free? Of course not. We don’t say that until we’re safely in harbor with the anchor firmly set; and we still have a couple of days left at sea. But it’s looking pretty good, and in any event, I’m going to enjoy this right now and revel in it…….No……positively wallow in it, while I can. Because you just never know when the grieving will have to start all over again…..
