Sailing Guide · By ATN, Inc.

Heavy Weather Sailing: The Complete Storm Tactics Guide

A working sailor's history of storm seamanship, the storm sails that made it survivable, and what a newer or mid-experience skipper needs to know before the wind builds.

On the afternoon of 13 August 1979, the British Met Office upgraded a small low pressure system in the western Atlantic from a routine forecast item to a serious gale warning. By the following morning, that system had crossed the Fastnet Race fleet of 303 yachts and become a Force 10 storm with confirmed gusts to Force 11. Fifteen sailors died. Twenty-four boats were abandoned at sea. The Royal Yachting Association inquiry that followed reshaped the way every offshore sailor on earth thinks about heavy weather.

Storm sailing is not a test of courage. It is a test of preparation, judgment, and the right gear in the right place. This guide covers what the working sailors of the last four centuries learned, what the storm sails on a modern yacht actually do, and what the newer or mid-experience skipper can do today to dramatically improve the odds of bringing the boat and crew home from a passage that turns ugly.

The article is long because the topic is. If you only have ten minutes, skip to the sail reduction playbook in Section 5 and the heavy weather checklist at the end. The rest is here when you have time.

Etienne Giroire standing on the hull of his capsized trimaran with his liferaft, photographed from the rescue ship during the 2010 Route du Rhum
What preparation looks like when everything else has gone wrong: ATN founder Etienne Giroire on the hull of his capsized trimaran, 1,300 miles from Guadeloupe, calm, dry, and ready, moments before his rescue in the 2010 Route du Rhum. Photo: ATN Inc.

1. What "heavy weather" actually means

Sailors use the words "gale" and "storm" loosely, but the underlying scale is precise. The Beaufort scale, set out by Sir Francis Beaufort of the Royal Navy in 1805 and updated by the World Meteorological Organization, defines wind force from 0 (calm) to 12 (hurricane) and pairs each force with a sea state description. For practical heavy weather sailing, the band that matters is Force 7 through Force 11.

Beaufort Name Sustained wind Sea state
7 Near gale 28-33 kt 13-19 ft seas, white foam from breaking waves blown in streaks
8 Gale 34-40 kt 18-25 ft, moderately high waves with crests beginning to roll over
9 Strong gale 41-47 kt 23-32 ft, high waves with dense foam, spray reduces visibility
10 Storm 48-55 kt 29-41 ft, very high waves with overhanging crests, sea white
11 Violent storm 56-63 kt 37-52 ft, exceptionally high waves, visibility seriously affected

Wind is only one of four variables that determine whether a given system is a manageable passage gale or a "boat-killer." The other three are sea state, fetch (the distance the wind has been blowing over open water), and proximity to a lee shore.

A 40-knot wind in 300 fathoms of open Pacific is a hard day at the office. The same 40-knot wind in 60 fathoms with a 1.5-knot opposing current and an unbroken 500-mile fetch becomes the steep, breaking, deep-trough sea state that capsized Fastnet boats. A 50-knot squall with 10 miles of fetch behind it is uncomfortable but survivable. A 35-knot wind with the boat 20 miles dead upwind of a rocky lee shore is a situation that requires immediate, correct decisions.

The single most useful concept for a newer sailor is that the wind speed alone is not the whole picture. The crew assessing the situation needs to think about all four variables together. This is also why "I once sailed in 50 knots and was fine" is poor evidence about what the next 50-knot encounter will be like.

Beaufort wind scale chart mapping Force 0 to 12 against wind speeds
The Beaufort scale, Force 0 to 12. Chart: Antonsusi via Wikimedia Commons, CC BY 3.0 DE.

2. A brief history of sailing in heavy weather

The doctrine that lives in a modern offshore sailor's head was built up over four centuries of mostly miserable evidence. It is worth a brief tour because the principles have not changed even as the boats and the gear have.

The lateen, the longship, and the junk

Long before square-rigged ships crossed oceans, Mediterranean and Indian Ocean traders ran lateen-rigged vessels that could reef their single triangular sail by rolling it around its yard. The Norse longship, with its single square sail on a stout mast, depended on prodigious oarsmanship when the wind turned foul and could be partly furled by gathering the sail to the yard with brail lines. Chinese junks, with their distinctive battened sails, had perhaps the most elegant heavy weather sail plan of the pre-industrial world: each panel could be dropped independently by easing one halyard, and the sail collapsed neatly into its lazyjacks. The Chinese rig anticipated the modern in-mast and in-boom furling solutions by a thousand years.

The square-rig age and the founding tactics

By the 16th century, the European blue water sailing fleets had developed the storm tactics that defined heavy weather seamanship for the next 300 years. The three core options had names that survive in modified form to this day.

Lying-a-try meant reducing to a single small fore-and-aft sail (a "storm staysail" or "storm trysail") set on the mainmast, lashing the helm, and letting the ship lie at an angle to the wind with very slow forward motion. The slick of disturbed water the ship made to windward helped knock down the worst breaking crests before they reached the hull. This was the ancestor of modern heaving-to.

Scudding meant running before the wind under reduced canvas, with the ship's stern presented to the worst seas. It was the right tactic when the gale was off the beam or aft of the beam and the ship had sea room to leeward, but it required active steering and was unforgiving of inattention. A ship that broached while scudding lay broadside to the next breaking sea and was at terrible risk.

Lying ahull meant taking everything down, lashing the helm, and letting the ship find her own angle to the seas. This was the option of last resort and was understood even at the time to be a desperate measure.

The seamanship manuals that codified these tactics include William Falconer's Universal Dictionary of the Marine (1769), Darcy Lever's Young Sea Officer's Sheet Anchor (1808), and William Brady's Kedge Anchor (1841). Lever and Brady are still readable today and their illustrations are striking.

Anson, Bligh, Magellan, and the Cape Horn lesson

Cape Horn is the place where heavy weather theory met the worst weather on Earth, and the body count taught the lessons. George Anson's 1740-44 expedition lost most of its squadron and most of its men trying to round the Horn in the wrong season. Of 1,854 men who sailed from England, 188 came home. The Centurion alone went from a complement of 500 to 213, "and many of them in a weak and Low condition," in Anson's words.

William Bligh, in HMS Bounty in April 1788, spent a month trying to push west around the Horn before he bore away east for the Cape of Good Hope. The retreat is now read as exemplary judgment by a captain who refused to lose his ship to pride. The lesson generalizes: prudence costs you something, but heroism costs you more.

Ferdinand Magellan's strait passage in 1520, Sir Francis Drake's circumnavigation in 1577-80, and James Cook's three voyages all involved repeated heavy weather decisions, and the surviving accounts read remarkably like modern ones. The same wind force produces the same problems, and the same range of solutions has worked across centuries.

The clipper era: carrying on

The mid-19th century clipper ships drove the storm doctrine in the opposite direction. With cargoes that paid for speed and captains who were judged on passage times, the clippers carried on through weather that earlier mariners would have shortened down for. Donald McKay's Flying Cloud set a New York to San Francisco record under Captain Josiah Perkins Creesy in 1854 of 89 days, 21 hours. That record stood for 135 years and was broken only in 1989 by a modern racing yacht. Clipper captains pioneered the use of preventer stays, doubled lines, and the systematic management of heavy weather sail as a routine business problem rather than a survival emergency. They also lost ships and crews at a rate that would horrify a modern sailor.

The "Cape Horn snorter" entered sailor's vocabulary in this period. One clipper master wrote, "the force of the wind was so great that the ocean smoked, and one could not see the jib-boom for spume."

Slocum and the rise of small-craft doctrine

For most of maritime history, "heavy weather sailing" meant the work of large commercial vessels with large crews. The recreational and small-craft tradition that informs almost everything in this article began in the late 19th century with one man: Joshua Slocum, who sailed his 37-foot sloop Spray alone around the world between 1895 and 1898.

Slocum's account of storm-fighting in the Strait of Magellan in March 1896 is the founding document of single-handed small-boat seamanship. He describes stripping the Spray to a single small storm sail, heading her off, and discovering that she would essentially self-steer with the helm lashed slightly to weather. The book Sailing Alone Around the World is still in print after 125 years and is still useful.

The early 20th century yachtsmen

In the years between Slocum and the Second World War, a generation of British and American yachtsmen codified the small-craft heavy weather doctrine. Claud Worth's Yacht Cruising (1910) and Yacht Navigation and Voyaging (1927), Erskine Childers' novel The Riddle of the Sands (1903) with its remarkable storm passage in the Frisian Islands, and Humphrey Barton's accounts of small-boat ocean crossings in the 1950s all extended the doctrine.

Fastnet 1979 and the modern doctrine

The single event that shaped current heavy weather thinking is the 1979 Fastnet Race. A racing fleet of 303 yachts left Cowes on 11 August. By 14 August the deep low that crossed them produced sustained Force 10 winds with gusts to Force 11 and breaking seas in the 25 to 40 foot range over the Western Approaches and the Celtic Sea. Fifteen sailors died. Five yachts sank. Twenty-four were abandoned. One hundred and thirty-six sailors were rescued.

The Royal Ocean Racing Club inquiry that followed analyzed every reported knockdown, capsize, and rescue. Its findings became the foundation of every offshore racing safety regulation in the world and shaped the cruising literature that followed. The key conclusions, repeatedly verified by subsequent events, were:

  • Boats that ran off actively (under storm canvas, with someone steering) and boats that lay to a parachute sea anchor or stern drogue survived in much higher proportion than boats that lay ahull.
  • Knockdowns to 90 degrees of heel were generally recoverable. Knockdowns past 130 degrees were often catastrophic.
  • Crew preparation, jacklines, tethers, and storm gear that was practiced before being needed made the difference between a hard passage and a fatal one.
  • Liferaft launching in the actual storm conditions was extraordinarily difficult. Several abandoned yachts were later found floating after their crews had perished in the rafts.

Modern doctrine, from the Cruising Club of America, the Storm Trysail Club, World Sailing, and the cruising authors who wrote after Fastnet (Adlard Coles, Lin and Larry Pardey, Steve Dashew, John Vigor), is essentially a careful response to those findings.

Ivan Aivazovsky painting Ship in the Stormy Sea, 1887
Ivan Aivazovsky, "Ship in the Stormy Sea" (1887). Sailors have been solving this problem for a very long time. Public domain, State Hermitage Museum.

3. The evolution of storm sails

The history of storm sails is shorter than the history of storm tactics, but the principles connect cleanly. From the 17th-century storm staysail to the 21st-century sleeved Gale Sail, every storm sail does the same job: it provides enough drive to balance the boat and maintain steerage, while presenting a small enough area, low enough center of effort, and strong enough construction to survive the wind it is designed for.

The storm trysail

The storm trysail is the small, flat, 3 sided sail set on the mainmast to replace the mainsail in storm conditions. It traces back to the storm staysail of the square-rig age and has been the standard offshore storm main since the late 19th century.

The Storm Trysail Club, founded in 1938 after a near-disaster aboard the yacht Salee in the 1936 Bermuda Race, did more than any other organization to popularize the trysail among American offshore racers. Its membership is restricted to sailors who have completed serious offshore passages, and it has produced sailing instruction and safety materials for nearly 90 years.

Current World Sailing Offshore Special Regulations (OSR Section 4) require a storm trysail with area not exceeding 17.5% of the mainsail triangle (0.175 × P × E, where P is the mainsail luff length and E is the foot length along the boom). The sail must not depend on the boom for support. It must be set on its own track on the mast or on a dedicated set of slides, and the sheet must lead independently of the main boom, typically to dedicated quarter blocks or to the spinnaker sheet lead position.

Mounting matters. The standard arrangement on a well-prepared offshore boat is a dedicated trysail track on the aft face of the mast, extending from above the gooseneck down to within 18 inches of the deck. This allows the trysail to be bent on and stored in its bag at the foot of the track, ready to hoist without the gear-shifting nightmare of dropping the main, removing the slides one by one, and feeding storm sail slides into the same single track that the now-flogging main occupied a moment ago. Seldén Mast publishes a clean specification for this arrangement, and most quality spar builders offer it as a factory option or aftermarket retrofit.

Materials: traditional storm trysails were heavy flax canvas, then cotton, then early dacron from the 1950s. The modern standard is woven dacron at approximately 8.5 to 9.5 ounces per square yard, with reinforcement patches at the head, tack, and clew. Since 2013, World Sailing OSR has required that the body of the sail be in a highly visible color, almost universally interpreted as "storm orange." Kevlar and other aromatic polyamide fibers are explicitly banned in OSR-compliant trysails, as is carbon fiber. HMPE (Dyneema) is permitted but is rarely used in practice because dacron is cheaper, more abrasion-resistant, and easier to repair.

The storm jib and the spitfire jib

The forward storm sail has a longer and more varied history. In the square-rig age, the forward storm canvas was a "storm staysail" set on the forestay or one of the stays inboard of it. As fore-and-aft rigs became dominant, the storm jib emerged as the dedicated small forward sail for heavy weather.

The traditional storm jib, sometimes called a "spitfire jib" in the British tradition, is hanked to the forestay or to an inner forestay (in a cutter rig), with the tack set well above the deck to keep the foot clear of breaking water on the foredeck. Modern OSR sizing limits the storm jib to an area not exceeding 5 percent of the foretriangle height squared (0.05 × IG²), with luff length not exceeding 65 percent of the foretriangle height (0.65 × IG). It must be hi-vis color.

A "heavy weather jib" is a related but larger sail used in the band between full working canvas and a storm jib. OSR limits it to 13.5 percent of IG², which works out to roughly the size of a deeply reduced #4 jib on a typical cruising boat.

The 1970s and the roller furling revolution

The most consequential change in foredeck rig design in the last half-century was the rise of the roller furling headsail. Through-deck and over-the-stay furling units, popularized by Hood, Harken, Furlex, Profurl, and others through the 1970s and 1980s, made single-handing and short-handed cruising vastly easier. The trade-off was substantial: the boat now had a single large genoa permanently mounted on the headstay, and no inner forestay to hank a separate storm jib onto.

This created a problem that the offshore racing and cruising communities have spent forty years trying to solve. The three solutions that exist today, with their trade-offs, are:

Option A: Deeply furl the existing genoa. A 150% genoa rolled down to a stamp-sized triangle is the option most cruisers default to because it requires no extra gear and no foredeck work. It is, in nearly every respect, a bad option. The shape of a deeply furled genoa is poor (it bags badly because the foam luff strip is in the wrong place and the leech is concentrated at the top), the center of effort is far too high (driving the bow down in gusts and producing dangerous weather helm), and the loads on the upper portion of the furled sail in storm conditions can exceed what the upper UV cover and the bolt rope were ever rated for. Above Force 8, a deeply furled genoa is generally inadequate, and above Force 9, it is a hazard.

Option B: Add a removable inner forestay with a hank-on storm jib. This is the standard solution from a sail-shape and load-management perspective. An inner forestay (Solent stay or staysail stay) is fitted to the mast at a height appropriate for the storm jib, with a tang on deck about a third to half of the way back from the bow. The stay can be set up only when needed, using a Highfield lever or a lashed deadeye for tension. A traditional hanked storm jib lives in its bag at the base of the stay and is hoisted exactly as it was in 1900. The trade-offs: the stay requires running backstays to balance the load when set up, the foredeck fitting must be backed with a proper structural bulkhead or chainplate, and the actual deployment in 35 to 50 knots and a pitching foredeck is real work that requires crew on the bow and a clear head.

Option C: Use a sleeved storm jib that wraps around the already-furled headsail. This is the contemporary solution, originated by a European inventor named Axel Lage and licensed and developed commercially by Etienne Giroire's ATN, Inc. since the mid-1990s. The Gale Sail (ATN's product name) is a small, hi-vis orange storm jib with a long sleeve or "sock" that zippers and lashes around the already-furled headsail. The Gale Sail's halyard is the boat's existing spinnaker halyard. Its tack is taken to a strong point at the bow (typically a stem fitting or a strong point at the gooseneck of the existing forestay). Once mounted, the Gale Sail's foot sits about a third of the way up the existing furled headsail, raising the tack well clear of breaking water and lowering the head, which produces the small, low, flat sail plan the storm jib has always been about. The trade-off here is that fitting the sleeve over a furled headsail in conditions worse than Force 7 is itself a foredeck task that benefits from practice in calm weather.

We will return to Option C in detail in Section 11, because it is the option that most modern cruising boats end up choosing once they have evaluated the others honestly.

Modern materials and the November 2025 OSR amendment

Modern storm sails are nearly always heavyweight woven dacron. Storm orange is now standard for both trysails and storm jibs. Reinforcement at the corners, the leech, and the foot is heavier than on a working sail because the loads, while applied across a smaller area, are sustained for hours and the boat is moving violently through the seaway.

In November 2025, World Sailing issued an urgent amendment to the OSR clarifying that a storm jib must be flown alone forward of the mast (no genoa staysail or "performance staysail" forward of it simultaneously), and from January 2026 the storm jib must be batten-free. This was a direct response to offshore racing crews who had been declaring their performance staysails as their storm jibs to satisfy the regulation while keeping a larger sail plan available. The amendment is worth noting because it reaffirms what the storm jib actually is: a small, dedicated sail, set alone, in the worst conditions.

An ATN Gale Sail set over the furled genoa, driving the bow through spray
The over-the-furled-sail option: an ATN Gale Sail set over the furled genoa, driving through a chop. An early example; today's Gale Sails are high-visibility orange. Photo: ATN Inc.

4. Reading the weather: the first line of defense

The single most important storm tactic in the modern era is not heaving-to. It is not a properly setup drogue. It is the decision not to be there when the worst weather arrives.

Modern offshore weather forecasting is good enough that almost every survival storm a cruising sailor encounters today was forecast at least 48 hours in advance. The 1979 Fastnet system was not well forecast in 1979, but a 2026 forecast of the same system would identify it three days out with high confidence. The technology has changed; the discipline of using it has not.

A serious offshore weather workflow has four layers.

The first layer is the surface analysis chart, the synoptic picture of pressure systems, fronts, and gradient winds for the region. The US National Weather Service's Ocean Prediction Center publishes the Atlantic and Pacific surface analysis four times a day. This is the chart that tells you where the lows are, how deep they are, and how fast they are moving. A newer sailor who learns to read a surface analysis has acquired the single most useful piece of meteorological skill in offshore sailing.

NOAA surface analysis for 1200 UTC 29 October 2012 with Hurricane Sandy off the Mid-Atlantic coast
One storm, three layers. Layer one, the surface analysis: 1200 UTC, 29 October 2012, Hurricane Sandy hand-plotted at 36.5N 71.1W with isobars packed tight off the Mid-Atlantic. Public domain, NOAA/WPC.

The second layer is the 500 millibar chart, which shows the upper atmosphere pressure and the jet stream pattern. The 500mb chart is the piece that most newer sailors skip, and it is the piece that most experienced sailors check first. A deepening surface low without a corresponding upper trough is a system that will weaken. A surface low with a strong upper trough sliding overhead is a system that will deepen rapidly, sometimes by 24 millibars in 24 hours (the threshold for "bomb" cyclogenesis). The 500mb chart predicts the next 24 to 48 hours of trouble.

500 millibar upper-air chart for 1200 UTC 29 October 2012 showing the trough that captured Hurricane Sandy
Layer two, the 500mb chart from the very same hour: the deep trough digging into the eastern US that captured Sandy and bent her ashore. One look upstairs explains what the surface chart cannot. Public domain, NOAA/SPC.

The third layer is GRIB-based model output consumed through PredictWind, Windy, Saildocs, or any similar service. The two American models worth comparing are the GFS and the NAM (for coastal); the European model (ECMWF) is generally judged the best long-range model but is more expensive. Run at least two models and watch for divergence. When the models disagree by more than about 15 knots at 72 hours, the situation is unsettled and the forecast confidence is low.

NASA GEOS-5 model surface wind field showing Hurricane Sandy as a colored spiral off the Mid-Atlantic coast
Layer three, the model output: NASA's GEOS-5 surface winds for the same storm, rendered as the colored field a sailor sees in a GRIB viewer. Public domain, NASA/Goddard GMAO.

The fourth layer is a human weather router for any passage longer than two or three days. Chris Parker in the Caribbean, Bob McDavitt ("MetBob") in the South Pacific, Commanders' Weather for the North Atlantic, and a handful of others provide professional routing advice for $100 to $500 per passage. For a 7-day passage with a $200/hour skipper rate and a boat that costs $300,000 to replace, a $250 routing fee is the cheapest insurance in offshore sailing.

Every cruising ground also has a seasonal rhythm, and a few obvious examples show the kind of pattern worth learning. North Atlantic gales build through autumn as the water cools, and November and December are the worst months between Cape Cod and the UK. Atlantic hurricane season runs 1 June through 30 November with its peak in early September, which is why many insurance policies draw hard latitude boxes for those months. Winter gap winds in the Gulf of Tehuantepec can reach 40 to 60 knots with little surface warning, though the 500mb chart calls them reliably. And some waters are simply harder than their forecasts look: the steep shelf of the Bay of Biscay makes a Biscay gale steeper and more dangerous than its wind speed suggests. These are examples, not a list to memorize. Every ocean keeps its own calendar, and part of passage planning is learning the one for the waters you actually sail.

The rule that emerges from every conversation with experienced offshore sailors is the same: the most expensive thing a passage skipper can do is leave on schedule. Boats can sit at the dock. Crews can fly home and come back next week. There is no race that justifies sailing into a forecast Force 10. There is no schedule that justifies pushing past Cape Hatteras with a cold front draped across the route.

US Weather Bureau surface chart of the 1938 Great New England Hurricane
The US Weather Bureau daily map for 21 September 1938, hours before the Great New England Hurricane made landfall. Public domain, NOAA Central Library.

5. The sail reduction playbook

If avoidance is the first defense, sail reduction is the second. The rule a hundred offshore instructors have repeated to their students is: "If you're thinking about reefing, you should have already reefed." If there is one rule to remember, this is it.

When you reduce sail, you reduce heel, you reduce strain on the rig, you reduce wear on the sailcloth, you improve helm balance, and you typically lose very little speed (often you gain speed because the boat is no longer overpowered). When you wait to reduce sail, you increase all of those problems, and the actual mechanical task of reefing becomes harder because the boat is now overpowered, the loads are higher, and the motion is worse.

The other thing newer sailors miss is the effect of apparent wind on the reefing decision. Going upwind, the apparent wind is greater than the true wind by 10 to 20 percent, so a 25-knot true wind feels like 30 knots apparent on a closehauled boat. Going downwind, the apparent wind is less than the true wind, so a 30-knot true downwind run can feel mild on deck while the seas around you continue to build. The implication: reefs should come early going upwind, and the boat should be reduced earlier than the apparent wind suggests when going downwind because the true wind is higher than it feels.

For a typical 35 to 45 foot modern cruising sloop, a sensible sail-plan-by-wind-speed schedule going upwind (apparent wind on deck) looks like this:

Apparent wind Sail plan
0-12 kt Full main + full genoa
12-18 kt Full main + #2 genoa, or first reef + full genoa
18-24 kt First or second reef + working jib (#3)
24-30 kt Second reef + working jib, or third reef + small jib (#4)
30-40 kt Third reef + storm jib, or storm trysail + storm jib
40-55 kt Storm trysail + storm jib
55+ kt Bare poles + Jordan Series Drogue (running off) or storm trysail alone (forereaching)

The schedule is a starting point, not a rule. Every boat is different. A heavy displacement cruising boat with a tall, narrow hull will carry more sail than a beamy modern racer at the same wind speed. A short-handed boat should reef earlier than a fully-crewed boat. The boat you single-hand in a Force 7 is a different boat from the one you race with eight people in a Force 7.

The order of operations matters. When the wind builds, reduce the headsail first (it has the most leverage on the bow), then reef the main. Drop sails to leeward when possible so the wind partly tames the cloth before it goes into the lazyjacks or onto the foredeck. Do not wait for the next gust to decide; do not reef on the windward deck if you can avoid it; do not run downwind to reef the main if you can hold an upwind angle that depowers the sail naturally.

The single biggest mistake newer sailors make in heavy weather is sailing too long in too much sail and then attempting all of the sail reduction at once when the situation has already become urgent. The right approach is gradual, planned reduction in stages, well before each stage is forced.


6. The active storm tactics

When the wind passes Force 8 and the seas continue to build, the question shifts from "how much sail can we carry comfortably?" to "what tactic gives us the best chance of riding this out?" There are four classical answers. Three are good. One is bad.

6a. Heaving-to

Heaving-to is the most useful single skill in heavy weather sailing. It is also the skill that newer sailors are most likely to misunderstand because the mechanics are simple but the boat-to-boat behavior varies.

The basic action: from a close-hauled course, tack the boat without releasing the working jib sheet. The jib will back against the new windward side and try to push the bow down. Ease the main until it is just luffing, or sheet it in tight depending on the boat. Lash the helm to leeward (the rudder will try to push the boat up into the wind, the backed jib will try to push it down, and the two forces settle into an equilibrium). The boat will lie at roughly 50 to 60 degrees off the wind, moving slowly forward and sideways at perhaps 1 to 2 knots. The wake of the boat curving to windward creates a "slick" of disturbed water to windward that helps knock down the worst of the breaking crests before they reach the hull.

When heaving-to works, it is one of the most peaceful experiences in offshore sailing. The motion calms. The deck is quiet. The crew can sleep, eat, repair gear, or simply wait for the weather to pass. A well-prepared boat can heave-to comfortably for hours or days.

When it does not work, the symptoms are clear: the boat refuses to settle, the bow keeps falling off and the boat tries to sail off the wind in jerky cycles, or the boat sails forward fast enough that the slick is not effective. Modern fin-keel, spade-rudder boats are often harder to heave-to than older full-keel designs. Multihulls do not heave-to at all in the same way and should not be considered to.

The practical advice: practice heaving-to in 25 to 35 knots before you ever need it in 50. Try several variations (different jibs, different reefs in the main, different helm positions) and see what your specific boat wants. Mark on a piece of tape in the cockpit what worked. Lin and Larry Pardey's Storm Tactics Handbook describes a refinement they call "para-anchor heaving-to" that combines a small parachute sea anchor off the bow with a backed mizzen or backed forward sail, which improves the position of the slick. It is worth reading.

Heaving-to is also the right move when you simply need to slow down and consider your options. A skipper who tacks under power and just heaves-to for an hour gives the crew a chance to eat, gets the navigator a chance to plot, and lets everyone reset their thinking. It is not only a storm tactic; it is the maritime equivalent of pulling over to the side of the road.

Diagram of a sloop hove-to with backed jib, eased main, and helm to leeward
Hove-to: backed jib, eased main, helm lashed to leeward. Diagram: Nigelj via Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 3.0.

6b. Forereaching

Forereaching is heaving-to's more active cousin. The boat is sailed slowly closehauled or slightly free, under reduced sail, at 1 to 4 knots, with someone steering and watching the seas. The bow stays into the seas, the boat keeps a small slick to windward, but there is enough way on to maintain steerage and to react actively to the largest sets.

Forereaching is the right choice when the boat will not heave-to comfortably (often the case with modern fin-keel cruisers), when there is some reason to keep moving (a known shelter to leeward you are still trying to clear, a tactical reason to maintain position), and when the crew can sustain active steering through the worst of the blow.

The trade-off vs heaving-to is that forereaching requires a person on the helm. The benefit is that it works on a wider range of boats and gives the helm an active role in dodging the largest breaking seas.

6c. Running off (scudding)

When the gale is from astern, when the boat has sea room to leeward, and when the crew can sustain active steering, running off is often the right tactic. Reduce to storm canvas (storm jib alone, or bare poles in survival conditions), and sail directly downwind or at a small angle off the wind under careful active steering.

The risk in running off is broaching: the boat is overtaken by a wave, the bow buries in the back of the wave ahead, the stern lifts, the boat slews sideways, and the next breaking sea catches her broadside. The two ways to manage this risk are speed control and active steering.

Speed control is achieved with warps (lengths of heavy line trailed astern, often weighted with chain), a speed-limiting drogue (Galerider, Delta Drogue, Sea Brake, Shark), or in severe conditions a Jordan Series Drogue. The first two slow the boat enough that it does not surf dangerously down the face of the wave ahead. The third stops the boat almost entirely and is discussed in Section 7.

Active steering is essential. An autopilot in heavy following seas is often not fast enough to catch a building broach. The human helm watches the seas, takes the largest breakers at a small angle (10 to 20 degrees off dead downwind), and gives the boat continuous small corrections. Watches of one hour or less are typical because the work is exhausting.

6d. The case against lying ahull

Lying ahull means dropping all sail, lashing the helm, and letting the boat find her own angle to the seas. It is the option that Fastnet 1979 discredited as a storm tactic in any seriously breaking sea state.

The reason: with no sail up and no helm input, the boat tends to lie broadside (or slightly stern-to) to the wind and seas. A breaking wave whose face is approximately as high as the boat's beam can roll the boat past her angle of vanishing stability. The Fastnet inquiry found that boats that lay ahull suffered a disproportionate share of the severe knockdowns and capsizes. Active tactics (heaving-to in moderate gales, running off in survival conditions, deploying a drogue) consistently outperformed lying ahull.

There are still narrow defenses for lying ahull. If the seas are not breaking and the crew is incapacitated, lying ahull is better than no tactic at all. If the boat is in shallow water with limited fetch and the crew judges the seas not yet dangerous, the boat may lie ahull for a short period to let the worst of a squall pass. But as a survival tactic in serious breaking seas, the doctrine is clear: do not lie ahull.


7. Drogues, sea anchors, and passive storm gear

The serious passive storm gear available to a modern cruising yacht falls into three categories: the Jordan Series Drogue, speed-limiting drogues, and parachute sea anchors. Each is used in a different way and each has a place in the storm gear locker.

The Jordan Series Drogue

The Jordan Series Drogue is the gold standard for cruising yachts in survival conditions. Donald Jordan, then a senior engineer at Pratt and Whitney and a lecturer at MIT, developed the design in the early 1980s in response to the Fastnet 1979 findings. The US Coast Guard funded the testing and published the design in Report CG-D-20-87 in 1987. The drogue consists of a long line (typically 200 to 320 feet for a cruising yacht) with many small fabric cones spaced along it. The cones, perhaps 100 to 160 of them, are each only a few inches in diameter. They open in the flow and present a distributed drag that stops the boat almost entirely (forward speed of 1 to 2 knots) while orienting her stern-to-wind.

The advantages of the distributed-drag design are that no single cone has to take the full survival load (so the drogue cannot fail catastrophically by one element ripping), the boat is held firmly stern-to the seas (so the broach failure mode is eliminated), and the rode does not snatch and shock-load the way a single-element drogue does.

The disadvantages are that the JSD is large (a 200-cone drogue does not fit in a hanging locker), the bridle and the attachment points on the boat must be properly engineered, and retrieval is slow.

Attachment: the JSD is set on a Y-bridle from the stern, with the bridle legs each rated for approximately 70 percent of the total design load. For a 19,000 to 20,000 pound monohull, the design load is approximately 13,000 pounds, and the bridle legs must be attached through structural chainplates or strap arrangements at the transom corners, not to standard cleats. Cleats are not sized for these loads. Donald Jordan himself specified stainless straps of 1/4 inch × 2.25 inch × 18 inches with six 3/8 inch bolts as the appropriate attachment.

Trip lines are explicitly contraindicated on a JSD. Jordan documented that a trip line tends to twist around the rode and prevent the cones from opening. The drogue is retrieved by motoring up to it after the storm has passed.

The 2018 Golden Globe Race incident in which Susie Goodall's DHL Starlight pitchpoled while on a JSD is sometimes cited as evidence against the drogue. The actual finding was that the inboard Flemish loop knot failed under an overload from an exceptional wave in an already overweight boat, and the manufacturer (Ocean Brake) has since changed to soft eye splices on all drogue rodes. The doctrine remains: a properly-sized and properly-attached JSD is the best passive survival tactic for a cruising yacht in serious breaking conditions.

The Cruising Club of America published JSD Best Practices 2.0 (a free PDF, widely referenced) that codifies the current consensus on sizing, attachment, deployment, and retrieval.

Speed-limiting drogues

The Galerider, the Delta Drogue, the Sea Brake, and the Shark are different products that all do roughly the same job: trail one largeish drag element off the stern to slow the boat to manageable surfing speed (typically 5 to 7 knots) while the crew continues to actively steer. These are not survival tools in the JSD sense; they are tools to manage active running-off when the boat is overtaking the waves dangerously.

The speed-limiting drogue is the right choice when the crew is awake, alert, and prepared to keep steering. The JSD is the right choice when the crew needs to stop steering entirely and ride out the storm with minimal active effort.

Parachute sea anchors

The parachute sea anchor (Para-Tech, Fiorentino, and others) is a large fabric parachute deployed off the bow on a long rode (typically 10 to 20 boat lengths). It holds the boat nose-to-wind, with all sail down, and stops the boat completely. The rode stretches as the boat is lifted and dropped by the seas, and the parachute resets after each cycle.

The advantages: the boat lies head-to-weather, which is the strongest orientation for most hulls. The crew has no helm work.

The disadvantages: the loads on the bow gear, the rode, and the chafe points are enormous. Chafe is the number one killer of long-rode storm gear, and a parachute sea anchor is the longest-rode storm gear in common use. Retrieval is difficult because the boat must motor up to the parachute (often against the residual seas) and the parachute must be collapsed before it can be brought aboard.

The Pardeys advocated heavily for parachute sea anchors in Storm Tactics Handbook, particularly in their para-anchor-plus-mizzen heaving-to refinement. The doctrine has its supporters and its critics. The honest summary is that the parachute sea anchor is a valid choice for a well-prepared monohull crew with good bow gear and chafe protection, and is widely considered the preferred choice for multihulls (covered in Section 8).

Victor Shane's Drag Device Data Base (dragdevicedb.com) maintains over 130 case histories of drogue and sea anchor deployments and is the closest thing to an empirical database in the field.

A note on chafe

Whatever passive gear you choose, chafe is the failure mode you are designing against. The rode runs over the chock or fairlead for hours at the same point. Heat builds. The cover wears through. The line parts. A storm-tested rode has parceling and chafe gear at every contact point, and the rode is moved through a foot or two at intervals during the deployment to expose a new section of line to the wear point. Builders of professional storm gear talk about chafe more than they talk about any other failure mode.

Side-view diagram of a drogue deployed astern of a sailboat
A drogue streamed astern: rode, submerged cone, retrieval float. Diagram: TS Eriksson via Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 4.0.

8. Heavy weather and multihulls

The previous sections were written largely from a monohull perspective because the doctrine has its center of gravity there. Multihull sailors need to understand which parts of the doctrine apply directly to them and which parts do not.

The fundamental fact about multihulls in heavy weather is that they have an inverted stability profile relative to monohulls. A modern keel monohull has low initial stability (it heels easily) but very high ultimate stability (it can be knocked down past 90 degrees and right itself reliably; most cruising boats have an angle of vanishing stability above 120 degrees). A multihull has very high initial stability (it does not heel) but very low ultimate stability (once past about 70 to 80 degrees, the form stability that was holding it up now actively holds it down). A capsized multihull is, in nearly every case, terminal. The boat may float for weeks inverted, the crew may survive in the upturned hulls, but the vessel will not right herself.

This single fact reshapes the tactics.

Heaving-to does not work the same way on a multihull. The slow drift to leeward at 50 to 60 degrees off the wind that a monohull settles into is not what a multihull does. The multihull tends to lie at a less favorable angle, the slick is less effective, and the windward hull or ama is vulnerable to being lifted by a breaking sea in a way that can initiate a capsize. The doctrine: do not rely on heaving-to as a multihull storm tactic.

Lying ahull is the worst possible choice on a multihull. With no helm input and no sail, the boat lies broadside and waits to be tripped over by a breaking sea. The Rose-Noëlle catamaran case in 1989 (capsized in the Tasman Sea, four-man crew survived 119 days inverted) is the classic illustration of what happens after a multihull goes over.

The two tactics that the multihull doctrine has converged on:

The parachute sea anchor from the bow. Deployed correctly with a hull-to-hull bridle, the parachute holds the multihull nose-to-weather and prevents the broadside exposure that initiates a capsize. The bridle must be sized correctly because a single-leg attachment to one hull alone is a recipe for a backward capsize.

The Jordan Series Drogue from the stern. Deployed correctly with a transom-corner bridle (also hull-to-hull), the JSD holds the multihull stern-to-weather and stops the forward speed that would otherwise lead to a pitchpole. A multihull JSD is typically 20 to 30 percent longer (more cones) than a monohull JSD of the same displacement, because multihulls are beamier, lighter, and more wind-driven.

Active running off with a speed-limiting drogue can also work on a multihull while the crew can sustain it. The risks (broaching, pitchpoling) are higher than on a monohull but the technique is the same: keep the boat moving with the seas, manage speed, watch the largest sets.

Multihull-specific authorities to consult: Chris White's The Cruising Multihull, Charles Kanter's Cruising in Catamarans, Gavin Le Sueur's Multihull Seamanship, and the multihull section of Victor Shane's Drag Device Data Base. The Practical Sailor multihull capsize-risk review is also useful.

And finally: the modern cruising multihull, almost without exception, has a single roller-furling headsail mounted on a single forestay and no inner forestay. The implication for storm sail planning is direct, and is treated in Section 11.


9. The hidden dangers

Most of what kills sailors in heavy weather is not the wind. It is the cascade of secondary problems that the wind triggers if the boat and crew are not prepared. A newer or mid-experience sailor who reads this section carefully is in a different category from one who does not.

Crew injury is the single most common heavy weather problem on the average cruising passage. Galley scalds, falls on a wet companionway ladder, head strikes from an unsecured boom or an unsecured kettle, broken bones from a fall against a winch or grabrail. Mitigation: lee cloths on every berth that will be used at sea, secured gear with every fragile item lashed or stowed, harness-and-tether policy enforced in the cockpit at all times when single-reefed or smaller, a hard hat or sailing helmet for any work on the foredeck in serious breaking seas, the galley stove gimbaled and the pot fiddles up, and a clear deck. The galley is the most dangerous compartment on a boat at sea, and the rule "no one cooks without a foul weather jacket and harness" is not paranoia; it is the result of decades of injuries.

Seasickness degrades crew judgment and capacity faster than any other single factor. A crew member who is severely seasick is unavailable. Mitigation: start medication 12 to 24 hours before the motion begins, not after symptoms appear. Once vomiting starts, oral medications cannot be retained. Scopolamine patches (transdermal), meclizine (Antivert, Bonine), and cinnarizine (Stugeron, available outside the US) all work for most people. Test the medication on land before the passage. Hydration matters: a crew member who has been vomiting is also dehydrated and is at additional risk of poor decision-making. Dry crackers, ginger, and the horizon are the home remedies that actually help. Below-deck work in a building seaway is the worst possible environment for someone susceptible to seasickness; let that crew member be on deck if possible.

Fatigue and hypothermia are the quiet killers. Watches should rotate often (three or four hours, not six). Hot food prepared in advance and kept in vacuum thermoses (oatmeal, soup, stew) keeps morale and core temperature up. Foul weather gear should be properly layered (a base layer that wicks, a mid layer that insulates, an outer shell that blocks wind and water; the sailor's foul weather jacket is the wrong garment without proper layers underneath). Gloves and a warm hat are not optional in cold weather. The number of cases where a hypothermic crew member made a decision that doomed a boat is large.

Gear failure is predictable if you list the points of failure in advance. Halyards chafe at the masthead sheave. Mainsheet blocks and traveler cars wear and seize. Autopilots fail (carry a spare drive motor on long passages; learn to steer to a windvane or hand-steer for hours). Engines fail; the most common cause is fuel contamination in heavy weather as the tanks slosh and previously settled debris gets stirred up. Pre-passage inspection by climbing the mast (the ATN Mastclimber is one tool for this) and inspecting every chainplate, every shroud termination, every sail's leech and luff and corner, is the only effective control.

Knockdowns and capsize are governed by the boat's angle of vanishing stability (AVS). For a typical cruising monohull the AVS is between 110 and 135 degrees. A knockdown to 90 degrees is uncomfortable but the boat will right itself. A knockdown past the AVS may not. The first defense is not getting knocked down in the first place: appropriate sail reduction, appropriate tactics, attention to the largest sets in following seas. The second defense is closed hatches, secured weather boards, secured floorboards (a floorboard that comes loose in a knockdown becomes a missile), and a galley that does not throw heavy objects across the cabin.

Man overboard in heavy weather is, in nearly every case, fatal. Coast Guard data show that approximately 89 percent of unwitnessed offshore MOB victims are never recovered. Tethers are mandatory in any conditions worse than Force 5 and at night. The tether attachment point matters: clip to a jackline that runs from a bow strong point to a stern strong point on each side, not to a single padeye. Double tethers (two carabiners) let the sailor switch attachment points without ever being unclipped. The single most important procedural rule: clip in before opening the companionway. The sailor coming up from below in a building seaway is most exposed at the moment of transition. Clip in below, then come up.

Decision paralysis and crew dynamics are the human failure modes. An under-experienced crew in heavy weather often makes things worse by hesitation, indecision, or panic. The skipper who tries to make every decision under load makes worse decisions than the skipper who made the important decisions in calm air at the dock. A written storm plan, posted at the nav station, with trigger wind speeds for each level of reduction and each tactical option, removes the hardest cognitive work from the worst moment. Pre-passage briefings ("at 25 knots we put in the second reef; at 30 knots we go to the working jib; at 40 knots we hoist the storm trysail and the storm jib") let the crew act on shared knowledge rather than fresh orders shouted into the wind.

Stay with the boat. The rule the rescue services repeat after every search is the same: the boat is bigger than the liferaft, more visible to searchers, and almost always still floating when the raft is gone. The classic instruction is to "step UP into the liferaft," meaning launch the raft only when the boat is sinking under you, never as a precaution. Multiple Fastnet 1979 abandonments resulted in death in the rafts while the abandoned boats were later recovered intact.


10. The storm sail drill

A storm sail in the locker is not the same as a storm sail you can deploy. The single most useful exercise for a newer or mid-experience crew is the storm sail drill, run in calm or moderate conditions before the storm sail is ever needed.

The drill: take the boat out in 10 to 15 knots of wind. Drop the headsail (or roll up the genoa). Bend on the storm jib, by whichever mounting method the boat uses (hank-on inner forestay, ATN Gale Sail sleeve, removable Solent stay). Hoist it. Sheet it. Steer the boat under storm jib alone for fifteen minutes. Drop it. Bag it. Now do the same for the storm trysail: drop the main, mount the trysail on its dedicated track or hoist it on the main halyard with its own slides, sheet it independently of the boom, sail under trysail alone for fifteen minutes. Now sail under storm trysail and storm jib together. Tack. Gybe under storm canvas. Bring everything down. Bag everything. Put the gear away.

Total time investment: two or three hours. What you learn:

  • Where the storm sails are actually stored, and whether you can get to them in a seaway. If your storm jib is buried under three other sails in the V-berth, you have a problem.
  • Where the storm sheet leads are, and whether the cars or blocks are in the right place. Storm sheet leads are often different from working sheet leads.
  • Whether the halyards are marked or labeled. A halyard you cannot identify in the dark, in spray, with cold hands, is a halyard you will not use.
  • How the boat actually behaves under storm canvas. Does she balance? Does she carry weather helm? Does she heave-to under storm jib alone? These are answers you want before you need them.
  • Crew assignments. Who hoists, who tacks, who steers, who tails the halyard. The night before a gale is not the time to learn who does what.

The military has a saying: "amateurs talk tactics; professionals talk logistics." In storm sailing, the logistics is the storm sail drill. The skipper who has run the drill three times has a different boat from the skipper who has not.


11. The modern foretriangle: how the Gale Sail fits

Section 3 introduced the foredeck problem that roller furling created and the three solutions that exist today. This section is the working sailor's decision frame.

The clear-eyed picture: most cruising boats today have a single roller-furling headsail on the forestay and no inner forestay. Most cruising multihulls have exactly the same configuration. The choice of forward storm sail must work with that configuration, not against it.

The three options again, with the honest trade-offs:

Deeply furled genoa. Cheapest, requires no extra gear. Poor sail shape (bagged, with leech concentration at the top), center of effort too high, dangerous loads on the upper section of the furled sail in storm conditions, generally inadequate above Force 8 and a hazard above Force 9. The truth that experienced offshore sailors tell each other is that this option is not really a storm sail; it is the absence of one.

Inner forestay with hanked storm jib. Inner forestay with hanked storm jib. Best load management although requires good backstay tension management to achieve proper luff. Requires the boat to be fitted with an inner stay (with a structural attachment at the deck, typically through-bolted to a bulkhead or a chainplate, and a tang on the mast at the appropriate height), running backstays to balance the load when the stay is set up, and significant foredeck work to actually deploy. The "significant foredeck work" line matters: rigging an inner forestay in Force 6 building to Force 8 is not the same as rigging it at the dock. The skipper who plans to use this option must practice the deployment regularly and must have the crew strength to run it under load.

Sleeved storm jib. The ATN Gale Sailis the leading commercial product. It is a small storm jib (sizing options of 60, 100, or 150 square feet for a wide range of boat sizes) with an integrated sleeve that zippers and lashes around the already-furled headsail. Hoist is on the existing spinnaker halyard. Tack goes to a strong point at the bow. Once set, the sail's foot sits well above breaking water on the foredeck, the head is at modest height, and the sail plan is the small, low, flat triangle that the storm jib has always been. Trade-off: the sleeve must be fitted over the furled headsail, which is a foredeck task that is easier in 25 knots than in 45.

The Gale Sail's advantage is that it is the option most likely to actually be deployed. The boat already has the spinnaker halyard. The boat already has the furled headsail. The sleeve goes around what is already there. Many cruising owners report deploying it in 35 to 45 knots without significant trouble; others report difficulties in worse conditions or with a poorly-prepared foredeck.

Customer voices that come up repeatedly in the testimonials:

  • William Ennis aboard the Passport 40 Wings on a passage between French Polynesia and the Cook Islands reported that the Gale Sail "returned control to us, reduced our boat speed, and let Wings get back on her feet again" after a failing furler had stuck the genoa partly out.

  • Pepper R., a circumnavigator aboard the 52-foot ketch Lolita, described using the Gale Sail in "survival storms to just average trade winds of 30 to 35 knots for days at a time," calling it "easy and safe" and a "must on any yacht."

  • Randy Williamson, sailing a Beneteau 445 from Bermuda to the Chesapeake, used the Gale Sail "in 30 to 45 knots of wind on the passage … We flew the Gale Sail almost the entire time."

The Gale Sail is the contemporary descendant of a lineage that runs back through the spitfire jib of the late 19th century, the storm jib of the 18th-century fore-and-aft rigs, and the storm staysail of the square-rig age. The principle has not changed in 250 years: a small, low, flat, strong sail set forward of the mast, balanced against a small mainsail aft. The form of the gear has changed because the form of the rig changed. The function is the same.

For most cruising sailors on modern boats with roller furling and no inner forestay, the ATN Gale Sail is the storm jib solution that actually gets deployed when the wind builds. The product page is at atninc.com/Products/GaleSail. The technical PDF Using Storm Sails by Brian Hancock (SAIL Magazine) is at atninc.com/pdf/using-storm-sails.pdf and is worth reading regardless of which option you ultimately choose.

ATN Gale Sail hoisted over a furled genoa in heavy gray conditions
The ATN Gale Sail drawing over a furled genoa. Photo: ATN Inc.

12. A heavy weather checklist for the new and mid sailor

The ten things to do before the passage:

  1. Check the forecast in four layers (surface analysis, 500mb chart, two GRIB models, human router for any passage over 48 hours). Decide not to sail if the forecast is bad. The boat can wait.

  2. Inspect the rig from the masthead down. A mast-climbing tool such as the ATN Mastclimber lets a single sailor do this safely. Look at every termination, every sheave, every chafe point.

  3. Run the storm sail drill. Bend on, hoist, sheet, sail, drop, and bag every storm sail. Mark halyards. Check sheet leads. Brief the crew on assignments.

  4. Prepare the galley. Hot food in vacuum thermoses (oatmeal, soup, stew) for the first 24 hours. Snacks accessible. Galley stove gimbaled and tested. Fiddles up.

  5. Set up the lee cloths and secured gear. Every berth that will be used at sea has a lee cloth. Every loose item is lashed or stowed. The floorboards are screwed down or locked.

  6. Start seasickness medication 12 to 24 hours before motion. Apply patches, take the first dose of pills. Test new medications on land beforehand.

  7. Brief the crew on the storm plan. Trigger wind speeds for each level of reduction. Who does what. Where the storm sails are. Where the EPIRB, the liferaft, the abandon-ship grab bag, the flares, and the medical kit are.

  8. Rig the jacklines from bow strong points to stern strong points. Confirm everyone has a tether. Confirm the "clip in before opening the companionway" rule.

  9. Check the autopilot, the windvane, and the steering systems. Spare drive motor for the autopilot. Spare tiller for the wheel. Emergency steering tested.

  10. File a float plan. Someone ashore knows the planned route and the expected check-in schedule.

The five things to remember in the moment:

  1. Reef before you think you need to. Apparent wind addition means it is later than it feels.

  2. The decision tree: can we still make progress safely? If yes, reef and continue. If no, what tactic? Heave-to (sea room, deep water, settled motion). Forereach (room ahead matters, crew can steer). Run off (sea room to leeward, can steer, drogue available). Drogue or sea anchor (survival conditions). Never lie ahull.

  3. Clip in before opening the companionway. Every time. No exceptions.

  4. Stay with the boat. The liferaft is the last resort, not a precaution.

  5. Storm sailing rewards preparation, not heroism. The skipper who carried on at full sail because turning back felt like quitting is the skipper who is now in the rescue helicopter.


13. Conclusion: four centuries, one principle

Heavy weather sailing began with sailors learning that a ship controlled under reduced sail is safer than a ship under full sail. The principle has not changed in four hundred years. What has changed is the boats, the gear, and the knowledge.

The lineage of forward storm sails runs from the 17th-century storm staysail through the 19th-century spitfire jib, through the hank-on storm jib of the early 20th century, through the inner-forestay storm jib of the postwar era, to the sleeved Gale Sail of the modern roller-furling boat. The function has been constant: a small, low, flat, strong sail set forward of the mast, balanced against a small main aft, designed to keep a yacht under control when nothing larger will work.

The lineage of storm tactics runs from "lying-a-try" and "scudding" of the square-rig age through the modern doctrine of heaving-to, forereaching, running off with a Jordan Series Drogue, and lying to a parachute sea anchor. The Fastnet 1979 inquiry, the Cruising Club of America research that followed, and the work of authors from Adlard Coles through Lin and Larry Pardey to John Vigor and Steve Dashew have refined the doctrine but not changed its fundamentals: active tactics outperform passive ones; the boat that is set up, steered, and prepared survives weather that wrecks the boat that is not.

The lineage of seamanship runs from Slocum's Spray in the Strait of Magellan in 1896, through Claud Worth and Erskine Childers, through Coles and the Pardeys, to the working sailors today who will read this article. The skill is learnable. The gear is available. The forecasts are good. The single thing required, the single thing that nothing else can substitute for, is the discipline to use what is now known.

For the storm jib that fits the modern foredeck, the ATN Gale Sail product page is the place to start. The complete ATN product family includes the Mastclimber for pre-passage rig inspection, the storm-grade Genoa Sleeve, and the spinnaker dousing socks. The news and reviews section carries customer reports from cruising boats around the world, and the testimonials page collects sailor voices that have used the Gale Sail in real conditions. For any question about which size or which configuration fits your boat, the contact page connects you directly with the ATN team.

Fair winds.


Further reading

  • Adlard Coles, Heavy Weather Sailing. The 30th anniversary edition (2008) is the standard reference, kept current by Peter Bruce.
  • Lin and Larry Pardey, Storm Tactics Handbook. The third edition (2013) is the canonical small-boat manual on heaving-to and the parachute sea anchor.
  • Steve Dashew, Surviving the Storm. A weighty and beautifully illustrated treatment of offshore storm sailing.
  • John Vigor, The Practical Mariner's Book of Knowledge. Accessible for newer sailors.
  • World Sailing, Offshore Special Regulations (current version). The legal definitions of storm trysail, storm jib, and heavy weather jib for offshore racing, freely available as PDF.
  • Cruising Club of America, Jordan Series Drogue Best Practices 2.0. Free PDF.
  • US Coast Guard Report CG-D-20-87 (Donald Jordan, 1987). The original JSD design report.
  • Victor Shane, Drag Device Data Base (dragdevicedb.com). Empirical case histories.
  • Joshua Slocum, Sailing Alone Around the World (1900). Still in print, freely available online, still useful.

Storm gear built for shorthanded sailors

ATN has been building storm and downwind gear since 1985: the Gale Sail for roller-furling boats, the Genoa Sleeve, and the Mastclimber that gets one sailor safely up the rig.

Questions about storm sail sizing? Talk to ATN.