Arctic Outflows

The first question we get this time of year is: how much snow do you have right now? People are generally unimpressed with the answer.

We live on the coast. Our boat sits in salt water, the same water that touches Alaska, Hawaii, Mexico, and Antarctica. The ocean keeps the weather more temperate, bringing "warm" air up from the south.

We also live in one of only a few temperate rainforests in the world. By definition, this means that we average at least 4.5 feet of rain per year (we blow that statistic out of the water, with an average of 10 feet of rain per year) and our temperature primarily stays in the range of 39 and 54 degrees (F).

All winter (and spring and fall…) low pressure systems move over us from the southeast, bringing strong winds and LOTS of rain. Sometimes these systems pile up on each other and low grey clouds cover the sun for weeks at a time. Whisky Cove is fairly protected from the southeast, with a hill buffering the full force of the wind from us. But don't let me sugar coat it- we still have plenty of sleepless nights as gust after gust lays us on our side, pumps our mast, and throws books off the table.



And then, every once in a while, we get an Arctic Outflow. Instead of the normal west-east moist/mild air flow, cold arctic air comes down from the north and gets stuck on the west side of the Rockies, funneling bitterly cold winds down valleys and channels.  The sky clears, the temperature plummets, and the wind shifts around to the northeast.

If you stand on our boat and look northeast, the first piece of land you see is a small island a mile away. We lie completely unprotected from these winds.

Last week, the first arctic outflow of the year visited Denny Island. For four days, the temperature hovered around 10F, with a windchill below zero, and the seas never calmed. This was a minor outflow, they can be significantly longer, colder, and windier, but it was enough for me. Even with our diesel heater running 24/7, we had ice build up on the inside of our windows.

 (don't mind the water stains...when the window's not frozen, it's wet...)

Our water pipes froze, our boat engines wouldn't start, our equipment failed, and my fingers were numb!

The outflow brought us perspective on what "cold and windy" really meant. When the storm finally broke, the temperature jumped 50 degrees in two days, the clouds moved in, and it started to rain again. I never thought I'd be so excited to see a week's forecast of nothing but rain and wind...