A storm whips the seas of the Pacific. For days, the winds feed energy into the ocean, whipping the waves higher. One collection of energy, for unknown reasons, usurps the power of its neighbors, growing substantially larger. Perhaps its alignment and the wind's alignment correlated longer. Perhaps the input energy achieved something akin to resonant frequency with the wave energy, and each little push caused it to grow. Whatever the cause, this wave and its energy grew to more than twice the average of the storm frenzied sea.
First on its path eastward is a low slung bulk container ship. Built in the 70's to manage 40 foot oceans, the ship has been taking on small amounts of water as the waves of the storm crash over its bow. The metal and ore below deck has started shifting from the constant rolling and pitching. The captain's best course would be to slow to a crawl and wait the storm out, but he's on a timetable: Payday doesn't occur until he docks, and his next paycheck depends upon unloading this load and getting another. So, he presses on.
A sister wave to the one we're tracking, not quite as big, but substantially larger than the 30 foot seas rears up and crashes over the ship's bow, straining hatches. The cargo moves some more. The ship plunges into the trough, and then the captain sees it: The biggest wave of his experience. A 90 foot monster rears ahead, crashes into his ship. Hatches are burst under the weight and the twisting, water floods the fore compartments. The 70000 ton vessel is suddenly much heavier, up front, and driven by its motors and momentum, literally drives itself into the ocean. A little over a minute later the ocean closes over its stern; the ship and its crew gone. No mayday was sounded, no transmission released to aid in finding the vessel.
The wave continues on, undeterred, heading for the California coast. Alerted to the presence of the storm, the big wave surfers are gathering, waiting. What size waves will arrive? Will they get a chance at the XXL prize for surfing a 100 foot wave? Jet skis are readied, surf boards are waxed, the ocean is scanned. As the storm surge starts rolling in, the surfers head out for a day testing themselves against the enormous energies of the ocean. The swells increase, first 40, and then 50 foot waves. Finally, the big ones arrive: 60, 65 feet, and then the one they'll talk about for years: Perhaps 70, maybe 75 feet tall. A ride is made, pictures are taken. The energy dissipates.
The wave scientists gather in Maui. They've gotten solid evidence from instrumented oil rigs in the North Sea, from scientific ships that didn't meet the fate of the freighter, from data relayed back from weather satellites: 100 foot waves, once only sailor's legends, routinely rise out of 30 and 40 foot seas. The problem: Their models don't predict them. The models used are accurate in predicting when a storm will whip up 30 foot waves, when it will whip up 40 foot waves – but they tend to predict uniform wave heights, not the regular monster that they now know occurs.
The information sheds light on another mystery: Lloyd's of London, a major insurer of shipping companies and ships, reveals that 2 major cargo ships disappear every month carrying their cargo. If the bulk of the ships built over the last 30 years were designed for a maximum wave of 60 feet, what happens when the crew meets a monster? Simulations back up the scenario with which I opened this essay: They drive themselves into the ocean after water breaches the hatches, after it floods the fore storage areas.
Susan Casey weaves these elements together, and more, in her book “The Wave: In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks, and Giants of the Ocean.” The majority of the book follows the big wave surfers as they hunt out the biggest waves to ride, and then underscores what they're doing with a search to understand how the waves gain their energy and what science is discovering. After reading the book I am in awe of guys like Laird Hamilton, Brett Lickle, and Dave Kamada, fascinated by the energies of the ocean, and have a reinforced understanding that the key to predicting the future climate of the earth rests on a deeper knowledge of the oceans – knowledge that scientists are just now beginning to gain.
I also won't be sailing or surfing anytime soon!
(Casey, Susan. “The Wave: In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks, and Giants of the Ocean.” Doubleday, New York. 2010)
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