As we’ve noted before, Capri will be hauled out and put on the hard in Clark’s Marina on the southern coast of Grenada, while we are three months in Denmark.  Statistics (lies, damned lies and then there are statistics), say that Grenada lies so far south that hurricanes rarely hit here.  The last hurricane, Ivan, which hit Grenada, was in 2004.  Because of that rarity, Grenada has been known as a “hurricane hole” amongst cruisers.  Many have left their boats on the hard here over the years.

Did I mention lies, damned lies and statistics?

When Carsten and Vinni are sailing, never trust statistics.

Tuesday June 25.

Carsten and I are aware that the hurricane season officially starts June 1, but statistically (damned lies) most of the hurricanes appear towards the end of the summer and into early autumn, August, September and October.  Six months ago, we reserved a slot on the hard at Clark’s Marina, with hauling out September 1 through October 31.  We changed those plans when we saw the American National Hurricane Center’s (NOAA) prognoses for hurricanes in 2024.  Their prognoses says that we can expect 30% more storms and 1-2 more major hurricanes (cat. 4 or cat. 5) than normal this season.  We made a quick decision to haul Capri more than a month earlier, specifically July 23.

Statistics (damned lies) say that hurricanes that hit the Caribbean generally move toward the northwest and hit the island chain north of Martinique.  Our sailplan, therefore, has been to get south of Martinique as quickly as possible and be in safety.  We arrived in Martinique at the middle of June and sailed onwards to the next island, St Lucia, 30nm south of Martinique.

It is Tuesday, June 25 and like every other morning since we have arrived in the Caribbean, we study at least six different weather forecasts and a couple of hurricane websites.  This morning, none shows anything happening out in the Atlantic and we go about our normal routine, worriless.  In the middle of the afternoon, we get an email from our Australian friends, John and Angela, asking if we have seen the low pressure forming out in the Atlantic.  We fire up the internet and see that in the last six hours, the forecast has changed drastically.  Now there is a “bomb” forming and NOAA is forecasting that there is at least a 60% chance of this intensifying to at least a named tropical storm.

Surely, you jest is our first thought.

Their graphics clearly show the cyclone starting.  Despite it being out in the middle of the Atlantic, NOAA is also showing the path it is expected to follow – right through the southern part of the Caribbean chain.

Surely, you jest is also our second thought.

What are we going to do?  Our strategy the entire time has been to up anchor and sail to Grenada if anything nasty comes our way.  Statistics (damned lies) say we should be perfectly safe at Grenada.  We are truly in doubt.  Most hurricanes turn northward.  There is still five days until it arrives and we decide to put off the decision and see if the path changes or the storm dies out.

Wednesday June 26.

The storm still has not been given a name, but continues to intensify and is now expected to be a cat. 1 hurricane when it arrives.

The European forecast, which statistically (damned lies) is the forecast that is most correct, is saying the cyclone will hit the southern islands in the Grenadines.  The American GFS forecast says it will hit St. Vincent, 30nm south of us.

We, of course, are rooting for the European forecast.  Since the European model historically is correct most of the time, we decide to move into Rodney Bay Marina.  We’ve been at anchor in the bay outside.  We have a slip starting Friday.

Thursday June 27.

GFS is not saying the hurricane will move a bit further north, but passing between St Vincent and St Lucia.  If true, then St Lucia will be in the two northern quadrants of the storm, exactly those quadrants that will receive the most wind and surge.  GFS forecast that here in Rodney Bay we will be on the receiving end of winds over 85 knots.

The European model says it will pass between Carriacou and Grenada, so we will only be hit with 48 knots.

What to do?

We know this marina.  We’ve been here before.  The harbormaster tells us that they never experience a surge here in the lagoon.  The lagoon faces west, away from any hurricane wind and the channel into the lagoon is narrow so no surge or swells will come in.  The marina has wide, strongly built and well maintained docks.  The marina in St. George on Grenada, where we have also been is, as far as we can remember, not as strongly built, nor as well maintained.

Another option is to move 10nm south into Marigot Bay and lie on a mooring ball there.  Marigot Bay is also known as a “hurricane hole”.  But we don’t think there are any vacant mooring balls.  Everyone is running for shelter.

Friday June 28

We dock in the marina and begin derigging Capri.  Down comes the genua.  The mainsail and the lazybag are tied down with strong rope.  The boom is tied down with extra lines.  All our landlines are doubled then trebled up.  Everything loose is taken down below or lashed securely to the deck.  The bimini is collapsed and lashed to the targa bar and Capri is turned so her bows are facing into the expected wind.  We hope that by turning Capri we can also keep her companionway open, allowing fresh air to come below.  We unpack our diving masks so we can go on deck and still be able to see if we have to.

We’ve done everything we can to ready Capri, but we’re still anxious.  Many of the cruisers are leaving their boats and moving to local hotels.  We see them trudging down the dock with their suitcases and backpacks.  Some with melancholy looks over their shoulders; most look downwards with nary a glance back at their boat.

Cowards.

This afternoon, Beryl is named and is now a cat 3. Hurricane.  Forecasters are saying there is a good probability that it will reach cat 4.

Saturday June 29.

All the forecasting models are now approaching each other regarding both the expected path and intensity of Beryl.  Definitely, it will be a cat 4. And it will hit the southern end of the Grenadines or the northern end of Carriacou. 

Good news for us – bad news for them.

The same forecasts are now saying we will only see winds approaching storm strength, not hurricane strength.

We’re calming down, but we don’t feel any certainty yet.  Hurricanes have been known to make sharp turns without warning.  Tomorrow evening, we will know for sure if we have dodged this.

Sunday June 30.

The marina is full and most of the boats have been derigged.  The houses around the marina have not, that we can see, made any preparations such as, plywood covering up the windows, sandbags etc.  The locals here seem convinced Beryl will pass far enough south that we don’t have anything to worry about.

There are now only minor variations in the forecast models.  The Grenadines and Carriacou are going to get blasted.

Sunday night and I am sleepless.  I get up three times during the night to check the forecasts for any changes.  Beryl is moving along the projected path.  I’m relieved, but not enough to sleep.  Carsten snores heavily beside me (damn him).

Monday July 1.

We are more than lucky.  Our aerometer says the strongest winds we recorded were 40.0 knts.  The rains have lashed Capri several times so hard that it has sounded like a high-pressure water cleaner outside, but the rains have also only been sporadic.  Below deck, we are fine and can even come up during the day to get some fresh air.

We never felt a real storm, with continual winds in the storm range.  The day feels more as if we’ve been hit by a series of very powerful squalls.  We also didn’t get 8mm of rain as forecasted.  In other words, we got off cheaply.  Beryl moved a bit south right at the end.

No boats in Rodney Bay were damaged, but La Marin, the marina on the southern tip of Martinique apparently caught a 3.5-meter surge and a number of the docks and boats were damaged.

Tuesday July 2.

Everyone here is relieved.  Cruisers are now coming back to their boats, dragging their suitcases.  Now they look chipper.  While we got off cheaply, the islands south of us did not.  Rumors say Beryl hit Carriacou with winds over 183knts, making it a cat. 5.  Nothing survives a cat 5.

Beryl has shocked the meteorological society.  Historically, a cat. 5 hurricane this early in the season has never been seen.  Beryl has passed us and is now, as I write, lashing Jamaica and the Caymans.

We’re thankful that we were lucky, but also shocked that our hurricane refuge has turned out to perhaps not be a refuge.  We’ve contacted the marina on Grenada and they say they experienced little or no damage and they are ready to haul us out on July 23 as agreed.

One of our favorite islands here in the southern Caribbean is Union Island.  Their Prime minister has said that virtually no houses remain standing.  Everything was flattened in less than a half hour.  Difficult for us to believe.

Red Cross has been here asking boats that are going south to ferry emergency supplies for them.  We leave to go south in a couple of days and we’ll carry all we can.  A relief fund has also been started and we’ve donated.

We are now worried about leaving Capri on the hard, but the alternative is sail her south to Trinidad.  We’ve decided not to do that since it lies close to Venezuela and the pirates there.

We will prepare Capri for the worst and hope for the best.

When you, dear reader, look at the drone video of the damage on Carriacou, remember that had Beryl hit St. Lucia, it would be Capri down there in the wreckage.  That thought keeps me awake at night (not Carsten though, who snores happily away every night).

Have a good summer.