Let me take you back to that morning.
The storm was already visible on the horizon when I made the first real decision of the trip. Not the dramatic one, not the turning back. The first one, which happened quietly, before anyone on board even realized there was a problem.
I kept my mouth shut and my face steady.
That is not a seamanship technique you will find in any manual. But it is the first thing a skipper does when conditions start to change and the crew does not need to know yet. Panic is contagious. Calm is too. Choosing which one to spread is the first decision you make.
Here is how the rest of them went.
Checking the safety briefing before departure
We had gone through the safety features and rules before leaving the dock. I had done it partly to look authoritative and partly because I genuinely could not remember if everyone knew where the life jackets were. It turned out to matter. When I needed the crew to act fast, they already knew what to do and where everything was. Brief your crew before every departure, even a short one, even if they have been on the boat before.
Keeping the sails covered
When the storm appeared I had not yet set the sails. This was luck more than judgment. But the decision to keep them covered once I saw the conditions was deliberate. Sails in strong wind you did not plan for are a problem you do not need. If you are motoring and the weather turns, keep the sails where they are. Reduce variables, not add them.
Getting the safety jackets on
No discussion, no negotiation, no "do we really need to?" This was not a moment for consensus. I asked once and everyone complied. Life jackets go on the moment conditions change, not when they get worse. By the time you think you really need them it is already later than you want it to be.
Positioning the crew low and central
I asked everyone to sit either in the cockpit or in the cabin, as close to the center of the boat as possible. Low centre of gravity, away from the edges, out of the way of anything I needed to do at the helm. A boat in rough conditions moves unpredictably. The safest place for anyone who is not actively helping is low, central, and holding on.
Turning back
This is the one that felt hardest in the moment and easiest in retrospect. The storm was directly ahead. The harbour was directly behind. The conditions were deteriorating. I had a beginner's skill set, a family on board, and no good reason to push through.
The rule is simple: if you have a safe exit, take it. The water will be there tomorrow. There is no destination on a recreational boat that is worth ignoring a storm for. Turn back, tie up, have a coffee. That is not failure. That is seamanship.
The decision that surprised me most was not the big dramatic one. It was the small ones, made quickly and quietly before anyone started to worry. That is where the real seamanship lives, not in the heroic moments, but in the routine ones that stop the heroic moments from becoming necessary.
Next week we close the loop. Getting back to the dock, in wind, with a crew that had just watched their captain turn a leisure trip into an adventure nobody planned. The practical decisions from that final stretch, lines, fenders, engine, and how the whole thing actually ended, are coming in Issue 5.
If someone you know is figuring out boating from scratch, this is the issue to forward. It might save them a stressful morning.
See you next week.
— Ale
There is a sequence to follow when conditions change on the water, and it is worth knowing before you need it:
Keep the crew calm by staying calm yourself first. Brief them before departure so they already know what to do. Get the sails down or covered. Life jackets on, no discussion. Position everyone low and central. Assess your options honestly. If you have a safe exit, use it.
In that order. Every time.
If the storm story across these last three issues has made you want to understand weather on the water properly, this is the book. It covers how to read forecasts, understand wind patterns on inland and coastal waters, and make good decisions before conditions change. Written clearly, no assumed knowledge. Available on Amazon EU and from most nautical bookshops in the UK and Italy.
My honest answer, having just lived through three issues worth of near-misses: not until you have logged enough hours with someone who knows what they are doing. The decisions I described this week felt manageable partly because I had read about them. But reading is not the same as muscle memory. Find a sailing school, crew for someone else first, or take at least one proper on-water course before you take a boat out solo with people depending on you. The sea does not grade on a curve.
