One evening during the pandemic, we encountered multiple waterspouts at dusk while sailing to Grenada. The winds were far too strong, and the weather systems were closing in on us too quickly for me to even consider photographing them before getting all the sails down. It was a stark reminder that nature’s beauty and fury are inseparable.
Fast forward four years, and we had this monster chasing us down in the Bahamas just as the sun was rising. I felt that same mix of emotions: my left brain was saying, “Oh %@#!, this could get bad,” while my right brain was simultaneously shouting, “Hell yes! I’ve always wanted to capture one of these!”
If one of these hits your boat, it’s total devastation. Yet, it’s hard to describe the feeling when you see one—it’s almost like the Sirens of Ulysses calling you. The temptation to turn the boat around and sail up for a closer look is stronger than one would like to admit.
