8

Uncertain Weather—Buster or Bomb?

It was a busy time in the Psaltis household. Sue Psaltis and the other spouses and companions of the crew were engaged in a frenzy of activity. One of the biggest jobs was organizing meals for the race. Everything had to be frozen, and the menu was worked out well in advance so the food would be ready on December 26. When the meals were done, Sue made sure that she had a complete crew list with contact numbers in case messages had to be passed along to people at home.

Ed and Bob were preoccupied with getting the new boat in top condition and taking care of the last-minute details that always precede a big race. As he did every year, Bob also set up Sue's computer so she could track the progress of the Rambler on the Cruising Yacht Club's website.

At 9 a.m. on the 23rd of December, Ed and Bob attended a compulsory weather briefing at the club. A Bureau of Meteorology representative talked about various computer models and described some of the things that might happen over the next four days leading up to the race.

The forecast¹ at the briefing was for a quick ride down the coast, but with a gale, at the least, in the Bass Strait. Bob thought, If we add a 50 percent fudge factor, which is pretty reliable, we'll likely be in strong gale to storm conditions. Ed remembers one model predicting a chance of an East Coast Bomb—a weather pattern in which a cold front moving north combines with a warm front heading south. If that happened, the result would be a mini cyclone off the southeast coast of Australia. In any case, both Ed and Bob left the briefing thinking they would encounter strong gale to storm conditions. It might be a tough race—but they had done tough Hobarts before.

Christmas Day was an exciting time for the children but not a particularly relaxed time for their parents. It was a mixture of fun and opening presents, combined with poring over charts and finalizing last-minute details of who was going to do what on which watch.

Sue was nervous. Some races, like the Mooloolaba, were okay. They were relatively close to shore, with no big offshore stretch like the Bass Strait. If anything went wrong, the crew could be rescued. But the Lord Howe and the Hobart were different. They were more frightening because the boats were farther away from shore.

Sue felt she could relax a bit after the start, but until they passed the Sydney Heads she would be more stressed than any of the crew in the race. Once they were out of Sydney Harbour, she could, as her mother-in-law used to joke, “‘Ease off the backstay’ and let out a big sigh that they've gone.”

The day after Christmas, Boxing Day, was the kickoff. Once the crew bags and food had been delivered to the boat, it was Bob's job as navigator to meet with the Bureau of Meteorology rep and hear detailed weather information firsthand. Traditionally, the department would set up a table at the Cruising Yacht Club with printed reports and projected summary weather analyses. As Bob approached the table, however, it was obvious that something had recently changed. He watched as the “Met officer” picked up an entire stack of paperwork and threw it into the trash can beside him.

The meteorologist was shaking his head back and forth as he spoke matter-of-factly: “All our predictions are now obsolete. Everything has changed. You are heading into some very nasty weather.” What had started out as a strong wind forecast had now increased to a gale and could even become a storm. It wasn't clear exactly what was going to happen, and nothing was mentioned about the size of the waves.

Bob returned to the Rambler and gave Ed the news. “Forget all the stuff about an easy race,” he said. “This is going to be a very tough one. We've got some major s—t happening down the track.”

The two talked it over, and finally Ed said, “Okay, it's going to happen and we've been here before, we'll just have to handle it.” The two partners were aligned. The crew usually did very well when things got tough. They had planned for rough weather and prepared their boat for bad conditions. They knew from the initial forecast that it would be a “hard” Hobart, but both felt confident they could make it, even if conditions worsened.

Will it be A, B, or C?

Not surprisingly, Larry Ellison had much more detailed information about the weather. He had purchased the services of a weather expert, a private forecaster named Roger “Clouds” Badham. Clouds, who had been forecasting for sailboat racers since 1977, had a distinguished client list. Now he was focused on helping Sayonara, another maxi yacht, Wild Thing, and other boats that could afford his services.

A week before the race, Clouds began studying an array of computer models and developing scenarios of what might happen. There was the American model, which predicted the most dangerous outcome. There was the Australian model, which seemed less threatening. And there was the European model, which had been most accurate in the past and was of less concern.

Clouds typically ranked the models A, B, or C, in accordance with his assessment of how likely they were to be right. This year, it was a gamble. But twelve hours prior to the start of the race, Clouds decided to go with the regional Australian model, which predicted that the oncoming low-pressure area would be south of the Bass Strait. There was still some uncertainty, however, and he made that clear to his clients at a last-minute briefing on Saturday morning.

Not everyone had the budget to afford Clouds’ services, but word of a worst-case scenario started to spread. John Mooney, skipper of the 38-foot Avanti, saw Clouds talking to one of his clients.² Mooney maneuvered into a position to eavesdrop on their conversation. He learned that one of the models was predicting more than a southerly buster. It was forecasting a southerly bomb, with much higher wind speeds. Clouds hastened to add that this was not the most likely option, and he thought that the fleet would get winds of 40 to 50 knots. But the possibility of a weather bomb had Mooney's attention.

Putting aside any thoughts of the days ahead, the crew of the AFR Midnight Rambler began stowing provisions. Water bottles were frozen so no ice would be needed. The meals, which consisted of sandwiches and precooked cold dinners, were packed and marked in chronological order of serving. Had weather forecasting been an exact science, however, they would have saved themselves the trouble of thinking about meals. Food would be a very low priority during the next thirty hours.