What 13 Years Living Aboard Through Hurricanes Taught Me About Protecting a Boat
After living aboard for 13 years, surviving hurricanes in the Bahamas and Florida Keys, working in emergency management, and now helping boat owners prepare through St. Augustine Sailing and All Points Yacht Sales, I’ve learned that hurricanes reveal both the strengths and weaknesses of every preparation plan. These are the lessons I’ve learned through experience.
Key Takeaways
After surviving hurricanes in the Bahamas, Florida Keys, and Northeast Florida as a liveaboard sailor, emergency management professional, and boating business owner, these are the lessons that have stood the test of time:
- Location matters as much as preparation. The safest boat is often the boat in the safest place.
- Have a written hurricane plan before hurricane season begins.
- Know your timeline. Understand how long it takes to remove sails, relocate, secure gear, and prepare your vessel.
- Plan for changing conditions. Wind direction, storm surge, and current can change dramatically during a storm.
- Reduce windage whenever possible. Remove sails, canvas, biminis, dodgers, and other items that create load.
- Protect against chafe. Anchor systems and dock lines often fail because of friction, not lack of strength.
- Don’t rely on a single layer of protection. Multiple anchors, backup systems, and contingency plans increase your chances of success.
- Community matters. Fellow boaters, marina staff, and emergency personnel often play critical roles before, during, and after a storm.
- Complacency is one of the greatest risks. The storms that surprise people are often the ones they thought would miss them.
- Preparation is never wasted. Even if the storm changes course, the effort invested in protecting your vessel is worthwhile.
The Lesson That Changed My Life
We had only arrived in Georgetown, Exuma a few days before the storm. We were newcomers. We didn’t know many people. But as often happens in the cruising community, strangers quickly became friends.
As the storm approached, my husband and I worked tirelessly to prepare our 41-foot Morgan Out Island Ketch, Tranquility. Every sail came down. Every piece of canvas was removed. Every loose item was secured below deck. We deployed a Bahamian moor using oversized anchors set in opposite directions and added a third attachment point to limit our swing radius inside what is now known as the Moorings Hurricane Hole on Stocking Island.
The boat was ready.
At least we hoped it was.
What I wasn’t prepared for was the possibility that I might not survive the storm.
I handed Sue, a woman I had only known for a matter of days, some money, my parents’ phone number, and my three children.
I trusted her with the most important people in my life.
I remember thinking that I was probably going to die.
My husband wanted to stay aboard Tranquility. He believed he might be able to do something if the boat got into trouble. Looking back, neither of us truly understood the power of what was coming.
I had a choice.
I could stay ashore with my children, or I could stay with my husband.
I chose my husband.
Not because of the boat.
Not because I thought I could save it.
Because I couldn’t imagine him facing what might come alone.
When you’ve spent years living aboard together, raising children together, weathering both calm seas and rough ones, the bond between husband and wife becomes difficult to explain to people who haven’t lived it.
I wasn’t staying for fiberglass and rigging.
I was staying because I loved him.
As it turned out, neither of us stayed aboard. We eventually sought shelter ashore with Wendal and Sue prior to the full force of Hurricane Lili arrived. But the decision itself taught me something I have never forgotten.
Storms reveal what matters most.
They strip away the distractions, the routines, and the things we think are important. What remains are the people we love and the lengths we are willing to go for them.
Hurricane Fran: The Storm That Taught Me About Location
The first hurricane, or at least the first real hurricane effects we faced after purchasing our vessel, was Hurricane Fran. It taught me one of the most valuable lessons I have ever learned as a sailor.
At the time, we were anchored in the Exumas between Allen’s Cay, Leaf Cay, and Southwest Allen’s Cay near Highbourne Cay aboard our 1977 Morgan Out Island Ketch, Tranquility.
We thought we were prepared.
We had secured loose items below deck, wrapped the sails, tightened the mainsail cover, and secured the roller furling jib.
What we had not fully considered was whether we had chosen the right location.
Initially, we were attached to a large red mooring ball located in deeper water where strong currents flowed between the cays. Throughout the night, everything seemed fine. But as the storm approached and the wind shifted, the situation changed dramatically.
The current and wind were no longer moving in the same direction.
Instead of riding comfortably behind the mooring, our boat was being pushed sideways. The mooring ball would rise on a wave crest while we dropped into the trough below. Each cycle brought us closer to danger.
What happened next remains one of the most frightening experiences of my life.
Our connection to the mooring ball was made with anchor chain. At the time, it seemed like a strong solution.
In reality, it was a terrible one.
Because we had no quick-release system, disconnecting required physically going to the mooring ball. My husband climbed into the dinghy during deteriorating conditions and attempted to disconnect us. As he loaded the heavy chain into the dinghy, the weight began sinking the dinghy. Then he became tangled in the chain.
Suddenly, our hurricane preparation plan became a rescue operation.
After a quick tutorial on how to keep the vessel straight and avoid drifting backward toward the coral behind us, my 12-year-old daughter took the helm. She was crying and screaming that her father was going to die.
My 10-year-old son stood on the bow trying to help pull both his father and the chain back aboard. I ran forward to help him pull in the chain and get his father safely onboard.
After reconnecting the anchor, I realized none of us had been wearing life jackets.
Looking back, it was a series of bad decisions compounding upon each other.
Eventually, we got everyone safely back aboard, recovered the chain, moved to a protected cove on the lee side of Allen’s Cay, and deployed the anchor.
The difference was immediate.
The water became calm.
The wind was significantly reduced.
The fear disappeared almost as quickly as it had arrived.
What changed?
Not the storm.
Not our boat.
Not our anchors.
Only our location.
That experience taught me something that years of sailing and countless hurricanes have reinforced again and again:
You cannot eliminate a hurricane’s energy.
But you can choose where your boat experiences it.
The right anchorage can reduce loads, wave action, current, and exposure dramatically. The wrong anchorage can turn even a well-prepared boat into a casualty.
Preparation matters.
But location matters just as much.
Hurricane Lili: When Preparation, Geography, and Community Came Together
If Hurricane Fran taught me about the importance of location, Hurricane Lili taught me how preparation, geography, and community work together to determine whether a boat survives.
In October of 1996, we arrived in Georgetown, Exuma just days before Hurricane Lili was forecast to impact the area.
At the time, we knew very few people.
What we quickly discovered was one of the greatest strengths of the cruising community: boaters help boaters.
Among the people we met were Wendal and Sue, caretakers for a private landowner on Stocking Island, and Bill and Jane aboard Windswept. Those friendships, formed in a matter of days, would become lifelong bonds.
As we prepared Tranquility for the approaching storm, Bill came over and offered a helping hand.
Not because we asked.
Not because he expected anything in return.
But because that’s what cruisers do.
More importantly, we were all anchored in the same hurricane hole. If one boat failed, every boat around it would be placed at risk as well.
One of the first lessons Bill shared with us was simple:
Take everything down.
Not some of it.
Everything.
Every sail came off the boat.
The roller furling jib came down.
Canvas came down.
Anything that could catch wind was removed and stowed below deck.
At the time, I thought we had prepared well for Hurricane Fran.
Lili taught me what real hurricane preparation looked like.
We anchored in what is now commonly known as the Moorings Hurricane Hole on Stocking Island, across Elizabeth Harbour from Georgetown. The location provided excellent protection, good holding, and limited fetch. More importantly, it was positioned where geography worked in our favor rather than against us.
This time, location was part of the plan from the beginning.
Our anchoring strategy was equally important.
We deployed a 55-pound Mantus anchor on an all-chain rode facing the anticipated storm direction. A 44-pound steel Danforth was set approximately 180 degrees opposite using a chain-and-nylon rode combination. To further reduce our swing radius inside the confined anchorage, we secured a third attachment point to a submerged engine block that had become a long-established mooring point within the hurricane hole.
The goal was simple:
When the eye passed and the wind reversed, the boat would not need to reset an anchor.
It would simply pivot.
As Hurricane Lili intensified, that strategy would be tested.
The storm arrived with blinding rain and sustained winds that quickly climbed from approximately 95 miles per hour to over 110 miles per hour. A storm surge estimated at nearly fifteen feet pushed into the harbor.
As expected, the eye eventually passed overhead.
For a brief period, conditions improved.
Many people believed the storm was over.
Those with hurricane experience knew otherwise.
The second half was still coming.
When the wind reversed direction, boats throughout Elizabeth Harbour began dragging anchor.
Some vessels that had been secure for hours suddenly found themselves broadside to the new wind direction. Single-anchor setups that had held during the first half of the storm pulled free from the churned-up seabed. Boats began drifting into other boats.
One dragging vessel became two.
Two became five.
The domino effect had begun.
Collisions cut anchor rodes. Boats tangled together. Some drifted into the rocky shoreline of Stocking Island while others grounded on shallow banks or suffered catastrophic hull damage.
Throughout the harbor, the destruction was widespread.
Yet inside our immediate hurricane hole, only two boats remained completely intact after the storm: Windswept and Tranquility.
We later learned that during the height of the storm, the winds were so strong that the spreaders of both vessels were reportedly touching the water as the boats heeled against their anchors.
Even then, the anchors held.
We did drag approximately forty feet during the storm.
But forty feet is very different from dragging ashore.
The difference was preparation.
The difference was location.
And the difference was understanding that hurricanes are not won during the storm itself.
They are won days before the first winds arrive.
Looking back, the boats that survived generally shared several characteristics.
Their decks had been stripped of unnecessary windage.
They used oversized anchoring systems.
They protected their rodes with proper chafe gear. We always used fire hose sleeves wherever lines passed across chocks or rollers.
Most importantly, they had planned for the wind to change direction long before it actually did.
The boats that failed were often not destroyed by wind alone.
They were destroyed by a chain of events that began with a single anchor dragging, a line chafing through, or a vessel colliding with another.
Hurricanes have a way of exposing weaknesses.
The best preparation is identifying those weaknesses before the storm does it for you.
What Working in the Marathon Emergency Operations Center Taught Me About Complacency
By 2001, my perspective on hurricanes began to change.
I was no longer viewing storms solely through the eyes of a liveaboard sailor. I was also working for the City of Marathon as the Building Services Administrator and serving in the Emergency Operations Center during some of the most active hurricane seasons in recorded history.
Over the years, I worked through Hurricanes Charley, Frances, Ivan, Jeanne, Dennis, Katrina, Rita, and Wilma.
Those experiences reinforced something I had already begun learning aboard Tranquility:
The greatest threat before most hurricanes isn’t wind.
It’s complacency.
Time after time, we watched residents delay preparations because previous storms had missed them.
Some believed the forecasts would change.
Others assumed they still had plenty of time.
Many simply underestimated the amount of work required to properly prepare.
Unfortunately, hurricanes don’t care about intentions.
They care about what has actually been done before conditions deteriorate.
One of the most valuable lessons I learned in emergency management was that preparation is not a single action.
It’s a timeline.
Every boat owner should know exactly what they plan to do and when they plan to do it.
When will the sails come down?
When will the canvas be removed?
When will extra anchors be deployed?
When will you relocate?
When will you stop trying to save the boat and focus entirely on personal safety?
Those decisions should never be made while standing on the dock watching the wind increase.
They should already be written down long before hurricane season begins.
Another lesson repeatedly reinforced by working in emergency management was the incredible power of storm surge.
Most people focus on wind speed.
Professionals worry about water.
Hurricane Wilma provided one of the best examples I have ever seen.
Many people remember Wilma’s wind.
What I remember is the water.
As Wilma passed through the Florida Keys in 2005, it generated two separate storm surges from opposite directions.
The first surge arrived from the Atlantic side.
Then, as the storm moved into the Gulf of Mexico and the wind direction reversed, an even larger surge pushed back across the islands.
Boats that had survived the first surge suddenly found themselves facing a second and completely different threat.
Some vessels floated above their dock pilings.
When the water receded, they came crashing back down onto the tops of those same pilings, puncturing hulls and causing boats to sink at their slips.
Others were lifted over seawalls and deposited on land.
Houseboats throughout the Keys suffered catastrophic losses.
In Boot Key Harbor, many vessels on private anchors dragged when the shifting winds liquefied the upper layers of the seabed.
Yet one observation stood out.
The engineered municipal mooring fields performed remarkably well.
The storm tested everything.
Some systems failed.
Others proved their value.
The lesson wasn’t that there is one perfect solution.
The lesson was that every solution has limitations, and understanding those limitations before the storm arrives is critical.
The same principle applies whether you’re protecting a home or a boat.
No preparation plan eliminates risk.
What preparation does is reduce the number of things that can go wrong.
The more layers of protection you create, the greater your chances of success.
Throughout my years in emergency management, I saw the same pattern repeatedly:
The people who fared best were rarely the people who worked the hardest during the final twenty-four hours before landfall.
They were the people who had already made their decisions days earlier.
They had a plan.
They knew their timelines.
And when the storm approached, they simply executed what they had already decided to do.
That lesson has stayed with me throughout every hurricane season since.
Preparation isn’t about reacting.
Preparation is about deciding in advance how you’re going to respond.
From Liveaboard Sailor to Business Owner
Today, my relationship with hurricanes is very different than it was when I was raising three children aboard Tranquility.
As the owner of St. Augustine Sailing and All Points Yacht Sales, hurricane preparation no longer involves protecting a single vessel.
It involves protecting an entire fleet, our team members, our customers, and the vessels entrusted to our care.
The lessons I learned aboard Tranquility have followed me throughout every chapter of my life. They guided me while working in the Marathon Emergency Operations Center, and they continue to guide me today as a business owner responsible for helping others safely enjoy life on the water.
Hurricanes Matthew, Irma, Michael, and Dorian each brought unique challenges and reminders that no two storms are ever exactly alike.
Matthew reminded Northeast Florida that storms do not have to make a direct landfall to create significant impacts. Irma demonstrated how quickly changing forecasts can force difficult decisions. Michael reinforced the devastating power of major hurricanes, while Dorian reminded us that preparation must begin long before a storm’s path becomes certain.
Each storm required decisions about vessel relocation, haul-out schedules, dock configurations, customer communications, staffing, and contingency planning.
The responsibility extends far beyond my own property.
When a hurricane threatens Northeast Florida, our team works to help protect charter vessels, privately owned boats, sailing school vessels, and the investments our clients have worked so hard to achieve.
Over the years, I have discovered that clients are often looking for the perfect solution.
The perfect anchor.
The perfect marina.
The perfect hurricane hole.
The reality is that there is rarely a single perfect answer.
Success comes from layers of preparation.
It comes from understanding your vessel, understanding your location, understanding your risks, and having a plan before you need one.
Whether you’re protecting a cruising sailboat in the Bahamas, a vessel in a Northeast Florida marina, or a newly purchased yacht, the principles remain remarkably similar.
Preparation is never wasted.
The storms may change.
The lessons do not.
The Hurricane Lessons That Still Guide Me Today
When I look back on nearly three decades of hurricane experiences from living aboard in the Bahamas and Florida Keys to managing emergency operations, protecting commercial fleets, and helping boat owners throughout Northeast Florida prepare for hurricane season, there isn’t one lesson that stands above all the other.
Instead, there are several lessons that continue to guide every decision I make when hurricane season approaches.
The first is simple:
Location matters.
I learned that lesson the hard way during Hurricane Fran. The difference between a dangerous situation and a manageable one was not the strength of the storm. It was where we chose to ride it out.
The second lesson is equally important:
Preparation is not something you do when a storm is approaching. Preparation begins long before a storm forms.
The captains who waited until the last minute often found themselves rushing through critical tasks, overlooking details, or running out of time entirely.
The captains who had written plans, prepared equipment, and identified safe locations before hurricane season arrived were generally in a much better position when storms threatened.
The third lesson is one that many boat owners underestimate:
Good enough is never good enough.
Every hurricane I have experienced has found a way to expose weaknesses.
A line that seemed adequate.
A chafing point that looked insignificant.
An anchor that appeared well set.
A dock line that was just a little too short.
Hurricanes are unforgiving teachers.
The smallest oversight can become the largest problem.
That doesn’t mean perfection is possible.
It isn’t.
But it does mean that every layer of preparation matters.
The fourth lesson is one I learned from both sailing and emergency management:
Understand your timeline.
Knowing what to do is only part of the equation.
Knowing when to do it is equally important.
Every boat owner should have a hurricane plan that answers the following questions:
- Where will the boat go?
- How long will it take to get there?
- When will sails and canvas be removed?
- What anchoring or docking strategy will be used?
- When will preparations begin?
- When will the crew leave the vessel?
- What items belong in the ditch bag?
- How will family members communicate if separated?
If you are making those decisions while a hurricane warning is already in effect, you are already behind.
And finally, there is one lesson that has stayed with me through every storm.
Community matters.
I learned that from Bill and Jane aboard Windswept.
I learned it from Wendal and Sue on Stocking Island.
I learned it from fellow sailors helping each other prepare in anchorages throughout the Bahamas and Florida Keys.
I learned it working alongside emergency personnel in Marathon.
No one survives hurricanes entirely alone.
The boating community has always been built on helping one another, sharing knowledge, and passing along lessons learned from experience.
That tradition remains one of the greatest strengths of life on the water.
Today, through All Points Yacht Sales, I have the privilege of helping people pursue their dreams of boat ownership.
Many of our clients are purchasing their first boat. Others are preparing for retirement cruising, coastal adventures, or the next chapter of their lives on the water.
Regardless of experience level, I share the same advice:
Have a plan.
Know your boat.
Understand your location.
Prepare early.
And never underestimate the power of weather.
Because after thirteen years of living aboard, raising three children on a sailboat, working through some of the most active hurricane seasons in history, and experiencing storms from the Bahamas to the Florida Keys, one truth remains constant:
The best time to prepare for a hurricane is long before you ever see one on the weather map.
And the best decisions are almost always the ones made before the wind begins to blow.
FAQs
What is the most important thing boat owners can do before hurricane season?
Preparation begins long before a storm appears on the weather map. Have a written hurricane plan, know where your boat will go, and understand how long each preparation task will take.
How early should I begin preparing my boat for a hurricane?
Ideally, preparations should begin several days before tropical storm-force winds are expected. Waiting until the last minute often limits your options and increases risk.
Should sails and canvas be removed before a hurricane?
Yes. Removing sails, biminis, dodgers, enclosures, and other wind-catching surfaces significantly reduces stress on rigging, anchors, dock lines, and cleats.
What is a Bahamian Moor and why is it used during hurricanes?
A Bahamian Moor uses two anchors set approximately 180 degrees apart. It can help limit swing radius and better manage wind reversals when conditions are appropriate..
Why is location so important during a hurricane?
Location affects wave action, current, storm surge, wind exposure, and holding conditions. In many cases, location determines whether a vessel experiences moderate stress or catastrophic conditions.
How do I protect my boat from storm surge?
Storm surge is often more dangerous to boats than the wind itself. Rising water can lift vessels over dock pilings, flood marinas, change anchoring depths, and carry boats into docks, seawalls, or other vessels.
The best protection against storm surge begins with selecting the safest possible location before the storm arrives. Boat owners should evaluate marina infrastructure, piling heights, potential flood zones, anchoring locations, and evacuation options well before hurricane season. Longer dock lines, proper chafe protection, multiple spring lines, and reducing windage can also help minimize damage.
Most importantly, don’t focus solely on wind speed. Understanding how water will affect your boat is often the key to surviving a hurricane.
Should I haul my boat out before a hurricane?
There is no single answer that works for every boat, every marina, or every storm.
A properly secured boat in a reputable boatyard may be safer than a boat left in an exposed marina or anchorage. However, hauled vessels can still be vulnerable to flooding, flying debris, and extreme winds if not properly blocked and secured.
The decision should be based on your boat, your location, the expected storm conditions, available haul-out facilities, and the amount of time you have to prepare.
One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that the best hurricane decisions are made early. Waiting until the last minute often limits your options and increases risk. Whether you choose to haul out, relocate, anchor, or remain in a marina, having a plan in place before hurricane season begins is essential.
What do you take into consideration when a hurricane is appraching?
When a hurricane is approaching, I evaluate several factors before deciding how to prepare a vessel.
- How close will I be to the storm bands?
- What direction will the winds come from?
- Wil the wind remain from one direction or shift during the storm?
- Is storm surge expected?
- Is flooding expected?
- What are the wave and sea conditions expected to be?
- How secure is my current location?
- How much time do I have to prepare?
I have a blog that discusses all these questions. “Hurricane Approaching? Here’s What Every Boat Owner Should Consider
