Earl

Earl.

The name is almost comical. Which, of course, is what makes it so worrisome as the name of a Tropical System. It's catchy. It's memorable. It is a name that stands up to future retelling in a way that too easily minimizes its potential danger.

Which is why, when I first heard about Earl approaching the Virgin Islands nearly a week ago, I became worried.

And I began planning.

Perchance is 30 years old. She has been through a few of these storms. But this is the first such storm that she will experience under my watch. And I didn't want anything to go badly. For her, or for me. Should I strip the sails? Do everything possible to make her ready? Or should I just take the chance and hope that Earl tracked farther to the East? I just did not know.

I first became aware of Earls potential track on Saturday. Circumstance kept me from going down to the marina until Wednesday. And so on wednesday I went down and starting poking around to see what others might be doing to prepare. Nothing- the marina was quiet and nobody was doing a thing. I puttered around the boat for a while, but didn't do anything significant to prepare her for an approaching Hurricane. For the rest of the day, I spent time examining tracking models and thinking. And worrying a little bit as well. How long should I wait? When would be too late?

By the time I woke up Thursday morning, I had made a decision, and I didn't waste much time. I grabbed a banana, had a cup of coffee, and went down to start stripping canvas. Before I could get started, my decision was ratified by the arrival of my immediate neighbors- they too had come to take down their canvas. And they have owned their vessel for 30 years.

And so I pulled down the mainsail, stripped the job furler, doubled the bow and stern lines, and added a spring line. I fastened everything I could. It all brought to mind an experience from 25 years ago on board the vessel that started this whole sailing fascination.

September 1985. Hurricane Gloria was tracking up the east coast towards Newport where I, just 16 years old, had just started my 3 month stint as a crew member on Geronimo. I had probably arrived on the boat 3 weeks earlier, and much of that time was spent painting, cleaning, and basically learning the names of the parts of a sailboat. It was all so new to me. I had sailed on small boats- dinghys really, but this was going to be my home for 3 months, taking me all the way down the east coast, through the Bahamas, down to Haiti and then back to Miami. This was a whole different story. And the arrival of Gloria added a whole new level of immenseness to it all. I will never forget the 2 or 3 days leading up to Gloria's arrival in Newport. The work, the anxiety, the learning curve that came with having to deal with a hurricane situation within my first month of ever being on a boat. I will never forget leaving Geronimo fast at her mooring in Newport Harbor on that late September day to go stay safely ashore and hope that she rode it out. And I will never, ever forget arriving back at the mooring the day after the storm passed, and the destruction that I witnessed around us. Sunk boats with only their masts showing at their moorings. Flotsam of all sorts floating around Newport Harbor. And Geronimo, well-built and well-prepared, unscathed. It was a great lesson.

The symmetry between 1985 and today is not lost on me. Nor do I think it is pure coincidence.

A good part of the reason I purchase this boat has to do with chasing memories of things that had a great impact on my life. And that September day in 1985 was really the beginning of those memories. So, as I write this, the day before Earl is set to arrive off the coast of Long Island, I do so knowing that I have done what I could to prepare Perchance for this test. Today, I tapped into a trusted instinct and possibly over-prepared for the worst case scenario.

But I will sleep well tonight. And hope for the best.