One day in March spring arrived in Eilat. Later that night, I lay in my berth caked in dust and wondering if it was actually possible to feel your body dehydrating. Breathing was uncomfortable. I thought about opening a hatch but I knew that the dust laden winds outside wouldn't offer any relief. Instead I got up, rinsed my face and drank some cool water. Our first Sharav of the season was blowing out with a sand storm.

A Sharav is a hot southerly wind that blows in advance of a low pressure area moving from the Sahara or Arabian deserts. These winds blow far into the Mediterranean, where in Greece they are called Sirocco and in Spain Leveche. Here on the Gulf of Aqaba, prevailing northerlies swing round to the south east as a Sharav arrives bringing hot temperatures and humidity to our normally dry climate. Often these southern winds will quickly die causing calm conditions on the Gulf. As the air mass passes, winds will clock around to the west picking up speed and bringing in hot, dry, dust laden winds. Sometimes the west winds will pass within an hour or two but other times they will blow for hours or even days. Finally relief comes when the winds clock back to the north blowing away the sand and dust allowing us all to enjoy clean air again.

Typically a Sharav wind heralds the coming of spring. So, while Israelis like to officially declare spring in April, we just wait for the first Sharav. This year, sometime around the middle of March a heat wave arrived. One day it was cool and windy, the next it was hot and sticky. In a matter of a few hours temperatures rose 20 degrees and we found ourselves peeling off winter sweats and searching for shorts.

The local weather bureau announced a Sharav and warned us that it was bound to hang around for a few days. Sure enough after a couple of hot days, the dust rolled in like a down east fog and Jordan's mountains disappeared from sight. Shortly everybody's patience began to wear thin. Around day four, I began to feel like I had been breathing into a full vacuum cleaner bag. My eyes burned and itched. My nose felt dry and cracked. My skin grated like parchment.

Explaining the effects of extreme weather conditions to someone who has no familiarity is always a challenge. For example, I often find myself at loose ends trying to explain Canadian winters to somebody who has never experienced freezing temperatures. The film Lawrence of Arabia managed to romanticize sand storms, but what is it really like living through Sharav season?

In an article describing winds of the Mediterranean, Wijke Ruiter writes about the Sirocco. "...the Sirocco also can affect health. The sudden change of temperature and humidity can be very depressing for a lot of people; causing headaches and sleeping problems. The Sirocco mostly occurs during the springtime - from February to July - but also can develop in other times of the year."

During this season, students in my yoga classes complain of sinus infections and headaches. For me the real discomfort lies in my eyes. They itch and burn day after day. At home one afternoon, desperate for relief, I resorted to some natural remedies. Manny returned to find me stretched out with cucumber slices over my eyes and his smart comments haven't stopped yet.



While meteorologists would claim that this area has four seasons, I often declare that there really are only two: windy and hot. Moreover, they change very quickly. No sooner are we breathing a sigh of relief as summer temperatures cool down to balmy days, and then we are piling on sweats and sweaters as temperatures fall, the wind picks up and nights become cold. I find myself asking "What happened to fall?" Here we are experiencing the same thing in reverse. While the weatherman talks of spring, temperatures jump between the high 30's and low twenties as one Sharav after another blows through the region. Each heat wave stays a little longer till we are smack into hot weather.

Living on a sailboat through Sharav season means constant dust control. As soon as the tell tail signs appear we tightly close all west facing ports and hatches. Despite our best efforts to keep the dust out, it is not long before every exposed surface is covered with a fine layer of sand, leaving dinner plates gritty and the cockpit lined with little sand dunes. The first time I found myself vacuuming Yofy's decks I felt nothing short of ridiculous. Yet now Yofy has a shop vac secured on her side deck all through Sharav season. Better to feel a little silly, then to clog all our cockpit drains.

These winds also do a great job at removing varnish from bright work and dulling all painted surfaces. It really is amazing just how much sand they carry. No matter how tightly we cover our mainsail the sand works its way into all the folds. Two weeks ago we watched in amazement at the muddy water that ran off our mainsail as we rinsed it after an afternoon out. Rigging, winches, sheets and halyards all must be washed regularly. Sand is a constant battle.

Mediterranean legend tells that the Sirocco wind had the power to drive people mad and to crimes of passion. This belief often led to the acquittal of those accused of slaying their lover during the intensity of Sirocco. On board Yofy we are being extra gentle with each other. After all these years of working hard to refit Yofy, we would both like to hang around to go sailing.