Don't Try to Outrun a Storm

It was against my better judgment. In the boating world, an oncoming wall cloud suggests that sails be stowed, hatches closed, two anchors be set if possible instead of one,  or lash an extra spring line on the dock, and throw on a rainsuit. I did none of the above.

We needed to deliver a volunteer to the dock in time for the ferry, so we agreed to leave around 10:45 to make it with plenty of time. In the meantime, a recently arrived crew had already been on the island for a day with nothing really to do other than wait for the weather to break so we could access the lighthouse dock. To distract them, I mentioned that they serve very good pizza at the Windigo store, located in the harbor next to the Visitor Center and the ferry dock, and maybe they should join us.

With the speed of the storm and its relatively small size, we could have waited it out with time to spare. But it was the pizza that sucked me in.

We sat at the dock for a few minutes while we summoned the crew. As they assembled, one of them wanted to go back for his raincoat. “Raincoat,” I thought, “if we get going, we should be able to avoid the rain and soon be under the porch of the store, munching on pizza.”

The wall cloud looked ominous, but it was still to the west and north of us. My rationale was that I could get 38 mph out of the boat, surely faster than the storm cloud. The last passenger stepped on board, we threw the lines off, stowed the fenders, and spun the boat around.

As we exited our little harbor, I noticed the north end of the cloud start to wrap around to the southeast, moving faster than the rest of the cloud. At that time, Environment Canada issued a radio alert instructing mainlanders to seek shelter as the area was under a tornado warning. At least I thought it was meant for mainlanders. I’d never heard of a tornado over Superior's waters.

My imagination took over. The north end of the cloud started to look like a hook, with a spin starting to develop. I pushed on the throttle even though there was no travel left. Surely it can’t keep up with us, let alone overtake us.

“The end of the cloud is starting to come over the island,” one of my crew calmly remarked. How did it get that far already, I wondered? As we narrowed down the harbor toward the Windigo docks we could hear the wind pick up and, off in the distance, rain hit the water. 

I instructed the crew to put out fenders on both sides of the boat as I maneuvered to catch the only open dock space, off the starboard side. The nose of the boat was just inside the dock space when the wind hit - broadside - and pushed it like a leaf into the neighboring boat. Fortunately, the fenders did their job, and two helpful rangers on the dock caught lines and pulled us in as the rain started to pelt down on us. I think I saw the crew member with the raincoat crack a smile.

The crew bailed on me, at my recommendation, and ran for the store. I stayed back and secured the boat. In running to follow them up the hill to the store, I became soaked from head to foot. Could have used a raincoat.

Never ass-u-me when it comes to weather, and certainly not a storm, that you can outrun it. That cell had to have been moving at more than 50 mph to catch up and pass us, and the hook may have been moving even faster. Lesson re-learned.

But boy, that pizza sure tasted good.