We had a series of 3 rogue waves, sailing to Papua New Guinea
- damn rough passage
with 3 days of sustained 30 to 50 knots and 4 to 5 meter seas. As we approached Jomard Entrance through the Louisiade Archipelago wind
dropped, so we started the engine
in a race
to get anchored into an atoll with good light. With eased conditions, I put a meat line in, and at looking back to check it – just about crapped myself at seeing a mountain of water
It was more than 10 meters high, 15?, I don't know – hard to estimate because its mass was vastly bigger than anything else around, and certainly higher than mid mast
height(68’). We slide up the front face – what a ride! The top 2 meters were collapsed on itself in pure white water
swirling every which way. We started to peel off to the right, and I realized the rudder
was stalled from no flow. I wacked the throttle to full, the rudder
caught, steering returned. Sliding down the backside, knees shaking, I looked back and saw 2 more identical waves.
After they passed, Behan popped up and said something about the waves feeling a little bigger. Yeah, a little I said.
There's something to be said for keeping a good lookout.