Going through a storm like Ciaran requires us to keep a close eye on the weather, prepare the boat meticulously and make decisions that are not always easy. It also highlights the solidarity and care that exists among those around us.
Weather tracking: The closer the date, the higher the price
The storm is becoming clearer and clearer on the weather reports from Sunday, October 29, 2023. Or, at any rate, as the day draws nearer, the reliability of the data increases, gradually giving us a better idea of what lies ahead. This new storm will come on the heels of storm Céline, which has already done some damage, as it fell at the same time as the high tides.
On the afternoon of October 31, MétéoConsult forecast a steady 45-knot wind gusting to 78 knots. My stomach's in knots. I already had it yesterday, when I saw the announcement of gusts of over 60 knots, but now... the fear is starting to set in.
I look at how the port of Concarneau has fared in other storms. Obviously, the image of the 1987 storm is on everyone's mind. Well, I don't know if it's really on everyone's mind, but it's certainly on mine. I see it's been categorized as a hurricane. So, in a way, I'm reassured by the fact that MétéoConsult is "only" talking about a violent storm.
Preparing the boat: mooring lines, sails, dinghy...
In these conditions, it's important to prepare the boat well. I'm not the only one, as there's a bit of a battle going on on the pontoons.
There's a special atmosphere on the pontoons. There's tension and attention. Everyone is afraid for his or her boat, while listening to the tensions and fears of their pontoon neighbors.
People come to check their mooring lines, lower and remove their companionway covers, and make sure that anything that could be removed is.
As far as I was concerned, my hawsers were already quite old and had taken a beating during storm Céline, so the time had come to change them. And I wasn't the only one. When we arrived at the store, several people were shopping for fenders and hawsers. Later, we found ourselves on the pontoons securing our boats. Tubes are put in place to protect the mooring lines from ragging. Having narrow fairleads, two mooring lines protected by a tube don't fit. This bothers me, as I soon realize that one of the new mooring lines is already damaged. Talking to a friend, he tells me that he has some scraps of leather that could make a good protection. What a great idea! 1h30 later, he's here with the material and we start sewing these protections.
I stowed my dinghy, secured my genoa so that it wouldn't unroll with the wind, lowered my boom, hooked my locker to the deck and checked that nothing could blow away or damage the boat. With my neighbor's boat gone, I was able to tie up to leeward of the pontoon. A good thing too.
The boat is ready.
And me, am I ready? To stay on board or not...
As you've already guessed, La Ceci is much more than a boat to me. It's my dream, it's my home and, in a way, it's an extension of me.
I'm wondering whether it's reasonable to stay on board, but also whether I'm capable of not staying on board. Several people are telling me that I should spend the night ashore. I don't know. However, as the days go by, the weather situation worsens and I tell myself that even if I stay on board, if there's a problem, I won't be able to do much except hurt myself.
A lot of people from Concarneau offered to put me up. I'm deeply moved by this show of friendship and solidarity.
On the 31st, the harbour staff came to see us to ask what we were going to do and to inform us that the harbour would be closed from Wednesday noon to Thursday noon. For my part, the decision was made to spend the night of the storm in the shelter of a friend's house. Thanks to them for their hospitality!
The discrepancy between the atmosphere on the port and the funfair next door, where the festive atmosphere is still present, is quite strange. They're such different atmospheres.
On the 31st, I saw that the forecast wind was gusting to 80 knots. I decide to stop watching the weather forecast. It doesn't change anything, except to cause me even more anxiety.
I decided to spend my last âeurosÂ? - evening on La Ceci. I celebrate her, I celebrate us.
I think about my bag. I have to take the papers, of course, and then... I take some clothes: for how many days? I take some of the things I care about most. I take some books.
It's a very strange feeling.
On Wednesday November 1, the weather forecast announced a hurricane warning.
A decree is issued, the question no longer even arises: we have to leave.
When I leave the boat, I close all the valves, unplug from the pontoon, close the gas valve, switch off the batteries and check that everything is secure.
I hug her tightly and leave.
A reunion with La Ceci
I wake up on the morning of November 2. It's still dark. I open the local papers to get the first news of the storm damage.
There's talk of fallen trees, cut-off roads, areas without power and the risk of flooding all day along the coast. No news from the port. No news, good news? I'm thinking that, as it's still dark, the damage may not yet have been ascertained. I wait a bit. A little later, the port cameras confirm that everything is still in place. The pontoons have held.
I wait for the tide to go out before heading for the harbor. As I approach, my legs tremble. I'm overcome with emotion. All the boats are there. It looks okay. Seeing it with a camera, or with your own eyes, is something else entirely.
A rainbow greets me. I arrive at the pontoon. From a distance, I can see my solar panels in place; one of my fears was that they would blow away. Ceci's fine. It's in place. It hasn't touched anything. Nothing hit it. I open it. Nothing has moved. It doesn't look like it's been shaken by a storm at all.
I know I'm lucky, and that it wasn't the case for everyone. I'm reassured. I'm relieved. Another first time over. This storm has passed. This storm was another learning experience for me. I received a lot of messages of support during this weather episode from people I knew more or less. It touched me deeply. Thank you so much! Thanks also to the people working at the port of Concarneau for their attention to my fears. All my support to those who didn't fare as well as La Ceci and me.
