Day 15-the rouge wave
Cy was on watch at about 8:15 pm. Chris was lying down before he started at 11, and I was asleep because I was to be up from 2 am- 5 am. The cabins were stuffy so we each had the hatches open at the “ vent notch” setting. Cy, at the helm, opened the side awning because, as he stated, he wanted to “feel the ocean”. Per his report, not more than 5 minutes later, the huge rouge wave washed up over the port hull and soaked him at the helm. Well, you cannot imagine what it is like to be sound asleep on a boat and be awoken by water cascading on top of you. By the time I realized what was happening, I was drenched, and frantically reaching for the hatch levers, which I couldn't see, and barely feel through the cascading water. Then it was gone for a second as the boat rolled the other way, and back for a second dousing as she came back to port before I could focus enough to close the hatch tight. Chris called it a convergence of extraordinary energy.

Later in the night I had my second abrupt washing. I was on watch, minding my own business, doing what I was supposed to be doing, watching the wind gauges, watching the radar, watching the helm angle (that’s why they call it Watch), and multitasking as I was texting with Peggy, and a small red blip on the radar formed about 4 miles off the stern, but to windward, the bad omen place. I watched it and it seemed like it was gonna pass far to our port side. I mentally prepared for what I would do if it got closer. I loaded the furling line on the winch. The main was already reefed. It started to rain so I brought in the cloths and linens that were trying to dry from the previous soaking, and by the time I got back to the helm, the squall had exploded to a all encompassing red blob on the radar, then the rain turned into a blowing torrential downpour going sideways. I ran to the winch to release the sheet so I could furl the jib some, and then felt the boat turning up into the wind, and ran back to the helm, and saw a message on the autopilot screen that it had lost rudder control, so I quickly put it on standby, and took over the helm. By this time, Mark and Cy were up to help, and got the jib in 25%. Then it was over. The wind backed down to the mid 20s from a max of 37 knots, the autopilot reengaged, and we all stood there dripping wet, wondering what happened.