Woke up to fog—the most dreaded of the water elements. Most weather you can plan for, or you can make on-the-fly adjustments to stay safe and dry. High winds? Reef your sails. Rain? Pile on your foul-weather gear. Easy, you’re prepared. But fog? Do you stay in place or go out blindly into the blanket of white?
Here’s a quick story. (Kidding. I don’t know how to tell a quick story.) We were coming home from a vacation in Long Island. We hit most Hampton locations in our water camper. As we were leaving, the fog crept in and we had no visibility so we relied on electronics. GPS. Radar. Radio. All sounds good until you get the call: “Little boat . . . little boat. We are going to be crossing you and can’t stop. Please make emergency preparations. Change your course. We are a cargo ship.”
Well, shit.
Again, no sight to judge time or distance. We slowed down. We wanted to change direction, but to where? We couldn’t even see the bow of our boat, never mind a tanker. Suddenly, we saw her. Crossing us way too close. I could see the expressions on the faces as they passed by. I watched with fear and, admittedly, fascination.
Isn’t that what the fog in our lives is? When it’s foggy, we can’t see what’s around us or what’s coming. It’s scary. Unpredictable. And something could run us over. But we hold tight, trusting our instruments.
What were some of the fog moments in your life, when the way was unclear, and what did you do to avoid collisions?
Frank
Same day or different occasion. I think we were a few hundred yards north of you on Little Gull. You relayed the message to jibe! Memorable and thank you…
Peggy
Yes for sure, fog literally puts a damper on everything when at sea. I was never amused by Sandburg’s “little cat feet” and rarely does it move on fast enough. Radar helps but I never got used to blind sailing. Even with radar and seeing the “target” coming at you, it always takes your breath away when it passes so closely and so quickly.