A Lesson for Tying Down a Yacht for a Storm

by Lucy Chabot Reed/Sail-World Cruising on 11 Feb 2007 A good lesson can be learned - about the best way to prepare any boat in a marina for a bad storm - from the story told by First Mate Rob Havey, who stayed on board to care for the Motor Yacht Leda during Katrina, the most damaging hurricane in U.S. history, and made a most unusual decision.

Lucy Chabot Reid, Megayacht News, tells Havey’s story:

Havey survived the storm, as did his charge, the 116-foot M/Y Leda, Trinity’s hull No. 1 and the personal yacht of one of the three Trinity owners. On that fateful day in August 2005, the captain was nearing the end of a two-week leave in North Carolina and the yacht had just hired a new stewardess, whom Havey encouraged to stay in her hotel for the storm.

Hurricane Katrina is classified as the costliest storm in American history, costing more than $80 billion in damage and claiming at least 1,836 lives (more than 700 people are still missing). Like many people, Havey prepared as best he could, but few were ready for what was to come.

The day before the storm, when Katrina’s intensity finally sank in, it was too late to move the yacht or bring in reinforcements.

'On Friday, everyone was still in denial,' he said. 'By Saturday, no one could get in and there was no way for me to get out. I just put as many lines out as I could.'

For whatever reason, a reason Havey still can’t articulate, he secured Leda in such a way that protected her and himself from what he estimated to be an 18- to 20-foot storm surge. Motoryachts Lady Florence (156 feet) and Zoom Zoom Zoom (161 feet) were also at the Trinity Yachts yard, which is about 50 miles from the Gulf of Mexico up the Industrial Canal and just outside Lake Pontchartrain.

Lady Florence’s crew had evacuated. Zoom Zoom Zoom had just splashed and preparing for sea trials, Havey said, so she too was without crew. Four employees of the yard volunteered to stay on board the vessels; Havey stayed alone. All three yachts were in the water but only Leda was under cover.

The storm hit late Sunday night. That day, the weather was beautiful, Havey recalled. But the water rose about a foot an hour beginning at noon, through the night and into the next day.

Instead of securing Leda in the middle of the undercover slip, Havey tied her about three quarters to the leeward (starboard) side, using most of his line to keep the megayacht about 30 feet from the windward side of the slip.

'I had been in two hurricanes the year before,' he said. 'I knew if I went windward [during the storm], I would be blown off the boat. I knew where the wind was coming from. I’ve never done it this way before but I knew I couldn’t work both sides. If you have room, I swear by it.'

Being off-centre like that enabled Havey to work only the leeward lines during the most vicious part of the storm. (He clocked winds of 148 mph before his equipment was ripped off in a succeeding gust.)

The winds shattered the 2-inch glass windows in the wheelhouse (Leda did not have storm panels) and made quick work of the temporary forward doors erected in preparation for her galley refit.

She soon began taking on water. Havey had the fire system on, the bilge pumps, even the manual bilge. At the height of the storm, from about 3-6 a.m., Havey was at the end of his lines and his courage. The main salon was flooded.

'A waterfall was pouring into the guest quarters and the engine room,' he said. 'At about 4 o’clock, I made peace. I was out of line and at the top of the structure. I was waiting for the building to cave in.'

Havey stood in the doorway leading out the back deck. The winds surprisingly weren’t too bad there, he said, because of the bulwarks around the stern. Being part of a main wall of the boat, Havey figured the aft doorway might protect him somewhat should the building collapse on top of him.

The winds slammed debris into Leda so ferociously that it peeled back her cap rail in places. Loose shipping containers were pushed up the canal and looked like marshmallows bobbing along.

At about 5 a.m., Havey described the rain and wind as vapour. Everything was white, what he imagines a cloud must be like, and it sounded as though a freight train were passing through the slip beside him.

But because the mega yacht was still a bit off centre, the overhead building’s centre beam didn’t crush her. About the time there was no room left, the winds switched and the water began to recede. Havey kept himself busy during the darkest hours trying to keep up with the inflow of water and adjusting lines, only this time on the port, leeward side.

By mid-morning Monday, the storm had passed. For the first few days after the storm, the water continued to recede. It was quiet in the city, peaceful even. Leda had just come off a charter, so she still had plenty of fuel and some food in the refrigerator. With generators still operating, Havey had not only food and water but also air conditioning and precious ice.

The other yachts weren’t as well attended and their lines broke, or they pulled up pilings. In either case, they broke free and were pushed up the canal. Later, Havey described the lines around one cleat as a welded mass, so overcome by the heat of tension that they just melted. He had to cut them with a saw.

'You’d never think a line would do that,' he said.