Living on a boat is a never-ending weather forecasting Exercise. During almost seven years of living (and cruising) on our 46-foot trawler Holiday, we ran through nearly every weather scenario in the books (except tornadoes and waterspouts). We spent most of that time at an Annapolis, Maryland marina, in a region where the weather can change on a dime.
During the 5+ years at our Back Creek dock, we experienced rain, thunderstorms, wind, and snow (way too much snow). Every day, we kept a watchful eye on the wind, the barometer, and the cloud patterns. Over time, we learned how to identify upcoming weather changes fairly accurately. Yes, we looked at the “official” weather forecast. But we suspected it was generated by several beer-swilling guys throwing darts at a board.
Every so often, a truly epic weather event rolled into our lives. As safety and preparedness geeks, we always prepared for the upcoming disaster. When we first heard the news hype, we methodically began gathering extra batteries, duct tape, bottled water, extra snacks, and personal toiletries. We didn’t want to be ill-prepared – heaven forbi
During mid-September 2003, Hurricane Isabel wreaked havoc in the mid-Atlantic region. Initially a monster Category 5 hurricane, Isabel hit North Carolina as a Category 2 storm. Decreasing to tropical storm strength, Isabel next took aim at the Chesapeake Bay, pushing devastating storm surges through Annapolis and Baltimore.
We stayed aboard Holiday at the dock, as we felt our heavily built aluminum trawler could best keep us safe. However, we weren’t having a hurricane party on the back deck. With our Back Creek dock just off the Severn River (which fed into the Bay), we knew several feet of storm surge was coming our way. We also expected 50-75mph winds to hammer us ─ we just didn’t know when they would hit.
We prepared for the impending storm in several stages. First, we removed all our gear from the decks and the roof. Next, Mark secured the 14-foot skiff to the boat, positioning the skiff’s lines to handle the excessive storm surge. Next, he doubled the lines on the “big” boat, adding firehose snubbers (for chafe protection against the expected tropical storm-force winds).
Finally, Mark taped Holiday’s full-width front windows in an X-shaped pattern, hoping to decrease the odds the panels would shatter in the storm. During our final preparations, we topped off our water tanks. We knew the marina would turn off the dock water (and electric power) as the storm moved in.
Now fully prepared, we watched the water steadily rise above the fixed docks. Just before the surge reached the dock’s electric outlets, the marina turned off the shore power. Now, we were running on the boat’s power. Fortunately, Holiday came through the storm with no damage, but the Back Creek aftermath wasn’t pretty. For starters, Annapolis’ waterfront streets were completely flooded.
Worse yet, Back Creek’s sewage treatment plant power had also been turned off. Without a functioning treatment plant, contaminated water flowed into our portion of the creek. Lots of assorted debris also kept floating by ─ and that’s just the debris we could see. In the midst of Isabel’s aftermath, several boat owners waded down our submerged dock to check on their boats. What were they thinking?
Next, Tropical Storm Isabel’s storm surge assaulted Baltimore. We heard that some Annapolis liveaboard boaters had fled there to escape the worst of the storm. However, the still-rising water surged onto the Inner Harbor’s floating docks, coming within a foot of complete dock failure and likely loss of some boats. The boaters felt lucky to escape with their lives.
Living on a boat during a Maryland winter is not for the faint of heart. First, there’s the often-brutal cold and biting wind, making trips to the car and marina showers an unpleasant experience. And whether it rains or snows, subfreezing temperatures can effectively turn the docks into skating rinks.
To make matters worse, my workdays started in the dark. To leave the boat, I stepped up almost three feet onto an often-icy 2.5-foot-wide finger pier. Once I got my balance, I trudged to the marina showers. Afterward, I lowered myself back onto the boat, thankful that I once again avoided a fall into the icy water. Rinse and repeat throughout the winter. Never again. Now we live in Florida.
A couple of Annapolis winters shall live in infamy. One year, an extended cold snap left Back Creek frozen solid. Although we were toasty warm aboard Holiday, we weren’t so sure about the Canadian boat anchored behind us. They had headed south to escape the epic Canadian winter ─ but apparently not far enough south. We heard they wanted to leave, but had no hope of moving until spring.
That was until a United States Coast Guard (USCG) icebreaker powered up Back Creek to save the day. Some USCG cutters and buoy tenders have reinforced steel hulls. This enables these icebreakers to keep the Chesapeake and Delaware Bays and Baltimore Harbor channels open for commercial traffic ─ even during exceptional hard freezes.
Holiday’s panoramic windows provided us with a great view of the action. The USCG icebreaker cleared a path around the Canadian sailboat and out of Back Creek. The sailboat’s crew, perhaps afraid they would soon be iced in, quickly followed the USCG icebreaker out of the creek. We hope they made it further south.
After one notable two-foot blizzard, the marina was entirely snowed in. Here’s what two feet of snow looks like against the jackstands (metal structures that support the land-stored boats). Now imagine two feet of snow throughout the whole marina.
Fortunately, the marina management had a Bobcat, so the yard crew quickly cleared the passageways between the rows of boats. And because the City of Annapolis had already opened the main roads (and the marina access road), after two days we had a good chance of getting to work.
Or so we thought. For some unknown reason, the marina management directed workers to create a wall of snow in the only driveway from our dock to the main road. Desperate to get to work the next day, we grabbed our shovel and began digging as fast as we could. Finally, the Bobcat operator took pity on us and removed the snow that blocked our freedom. We’re still shaking our heads over that incident.
As we reflect on our time aboard Holiday, we won’t forget our years living aboard in Annapolis. We experienced a hurricane, a Back Creek freeze, and a blizzard all without leaving our dock. We’ll never look at extreme weather events the same way again.
