I thought this might interest some who have an understanding of fractals/natural systems and such as it applies to charts etc. Applies to trading generally but I'm a futures trader. Scientists Shed New Light on Mysteriously Large Rogue Waves That Can Threaten Large Ships https://scitechdaily.com/scientists-have-shed-new-light-on-the-mysteriously-large-rogue-waves/amp/
Oh, hell - I thought this would be straight up my alley. I got hit by a rogue wave back in the winter of 1999, about 100 miles east of Cape Fear - fortunately only a 2x one, or I probably wouldn't be here - so this perked my interest. "Shed new light" is a bit overstated. "Wave dynamics are complex" isn't much of a change from what we already know.
Dead nuts on! My max length of permitted stay in Bermuda was expiring, so I had to leave - and it was late November. I had been thinking about the Azores and then Europe, but some personal factors hadn't worked out, so I needed to head back to the States (wish it hadn't turned out that way, dammit.) Also, the guy I had sold my previous boat to in the USVIs wanted to do an open ocean passage with me - his big dream was to do a circumnavigation, and he was just rarin' to go. It was a bit of a challenge to get him to settle down - all ideals, zero experience - and I figured that seeing a bit of reality would season him a bit. The first four days (out of St George's for Charleston SC) were just beautiful: sunny skies, force 3-4 on the beam or the quarter... the kid was just dancing on the foredeck and laughing at me "trying to spoil his dream" with all these cautions and warnings. Then came the Gulf Stream. Late November/early December, as I've mentioned. We were about 120 miles out, so the "hump" was still ahead of us - and a day earlier, Iron Mike (NMN) started calling for an NNE gale, 34-39kt with 12'-18' seas. As I'd imagine you know, normally that's not a big deal to a sailor. Take a couple of reefs, sit back in the cockpit (my boat, a Dutch-built steel ketch, had quite a nice pilothouse), and keep making those miles, right? As long as the waves aren't breaking, it's all just good fun. But this was in the GS, flowing north at about 4kt in those parts, and after a day or so, the NNE pushing against it had stacked those waves up until they looked like apartment buildings - ones we were now bashing into. Or that fell over on us, regularly. Add in the classic black skies with clouds damn near on deck, and you've got - well, what you get off the US east coast in late fall/early winter. The kid had completely lost his shit by then, and was screaming for me to call the Coast Guard and come rescue us. I couldn't have him on the wheel - told him to go down in the aft cabin and stay there, or I'd put him there - and stayed on watch myself. The weather worsened a bit - up in the mid-40s, gusting over 50 - so I climbed out on deck, struck the reefed jib and main and raised the storm sails (the reefed mizzen was working fine), checked and re-secured everything that was tied down, and made my way back to the cockpit. As soon as I did, though, I heard something that sounded like a train bearing down on us - looking to windward, I saw what looked like the side of a mountain covered in foam rearing up over the boat. I tucked myself a bit deeper into the cockpit, spun the wheel to head her more into it, and held on for dear life. I felt the boat lifted, as if it was a toy - but we didn't stall, and the rudder and the keel kept their grip as we came up that wave face. Up, up... and then we were over, and I was fighting the wheel to keep us tracking so we wouldn't get rolled in the trough. A part of it broke over us, covering the boat completely - so that for a few long seconds, I was standing waist-deep in green water 120 miles east of Cape Fear, with only my masts sticking out above the surface to keep me company. Then, my "Flight" stopped being a submarine, shook it off, and came up from under - and that monster rolled away from us. Aside from the propane tank on the foredeck breaking its lashings and banging about hanging on only by its hose (which I quickly secured), we had taken no damage. The kid was, of course, completely incoherent by then - and I was exhausted after being on watch for 30-plus hours. So, I headed back west, off the hump, and everything calmed down quite quickly; a couple of watches later we were setting full sail for the Bahamas and had an easy passage down. The kid rocketed off the boat as soon as we tied up at the dock (last I heard, he was doing little local sails around St. Thomas), and I crossed to Ft. Pierce in a dead calm a week later. Only time I've seen the GS that flat and peaceful... Good times, good memories.
WOW! I have had many days wetting a hook in the stream, and know all too well that time of year, the temp breaks, eddy flows, and natural strong flow S to N against a N wind. I'd be gone like the kid too after that, hell of a story and always a reminder of mother nature.
Damn, that reads like a modern-day Moby Dick, but without the white whale. You should write a novella about your experiences, just for fun.
It's been a pretty full life so far; I've rarely if ever said "no" when something new, weird, wild, or even crazy-sounding came up. I'm getting older, but I think I have the juice for at least a few more flings at life... been feeling a little stalled, a little cooped-up the last couple of years, so it's probably time to look around and see what I can see again. Thought about writing things down, but - hell, it's too many experiences for anyone to believe happened to one man, anyway. I don't mind, but I can't see spending the time to do it. I'm also reaching a point in my trading where I'm starting to make solid, repeatable gains regardless of what the market is doing - a point I had lots of doubts about reaching - so... you never know. Life tends to throw possibilities at me pretty regularly; all I need to is catch hold and ride whatever horse I end up on. I'll probably die in the middle of a hurricane some day - but that's a hell of a lot better than being bored to death.
Thanks, @Last - very kind of you! I spent seven years cruising under sail, twenty altogether living aboard; it's brought me lots of wild and wooly experiences and a tremendous amount of joy and freedom, and I recall a lot of those moments with crystal clarity. That one definitely left an imprint.
Wow... This was a beautiful read. Those adventures are what make you feel really alive. I lived in Bermuda for a year in 2005, around Hamilton, on land, some beautiful boats docked there.