"Unbeknown to us at the time a 9m monohull, Puffin, was battling the same gale and eventually succumbed, requiring rescue by the French Helicopter Service out of Noumea. Tracking our movement on the GPS, we were approaching the point where we had been three days earlier, having drifted in a complete circle. Under the parachute we had moved at less than half a knot in the direction of the current". It must be stated here that it is better to move with a current than with the wind. Winds can, and do, blow ashore. Currents keep moving and invariably pass along the coast. Gavin LeSeur concludes "Forty-six hours after launching the parachute sea anchor, I sent Mick and Nigel to the foredeck trampoline to start hauling in the rode line while I motored full throttle into the thirty knot wind. Within no time, Nigel had the parachute shroud lines in and broke the shape allowing it to be hauled aboard. The parachute sea anchor did the job, was deployed in time and we rode through a severe gale with minimal damage. The VHF warning to all ships may have prevented us from being run down. We made it to Fiji and my family was happy to have the job of sailing home downwind."

During the morning I ventured above to the cockpit and was immediately awestruck. The seas were reported to be 11m on top of a 9m swell, the faces of the waves being around 60 feet! We had plenty of sea room and we drifted in a southerly direction on a west wind at 1 knot. The parachute sea anchor held us steady, as the cyclonic wind whirled overhead at 70 knots. For 24 hours we drifted in this direction.

The weather remained unchanged. AII day long the winds continued to blow over 70 knots and we were down almost as far as Bunbury. A cargo ship had just lost 30 containers off Cape Leeuwin.

Deborah Schutz was sailing in the Indian Ocean. They had sailed from Adelaide and were abeam Cape Naturaliste on the south west coast of Western Australia. "Sunday 15th July 1996. By nightfall we had a 40-knot NNE. There were no safe anchorages along here in these conditions. Throughout the night, Mother Nature unleashed a storm of unrelenting fury. The NNE blew to 50 knots with large seas, our only choice to head out to sea".

Around 1030 we motored into Fremantle Sailing Club, grateful that we had decided to purchase a parachute sea anchor. With it we were able to ride out and survive the conditions, our bow held to the seas. The weather bureau in Perth described the freak weather as a rare winter tornado. It struck the coast at 200km per hour winds."

Perth radio gave a gale force warning. The barometer read 996 and was falling rapidly. As night progressed, squalls reached 60 knots. The ferocity of the storm was intensifying. The needle of our wind indicator went beyond the last notch of 65 knots and the seas were dramatically rising. At about 0500 a huge wall of white water knocked us, the helmsman was standing in chest deep water and our mast touched the ocean surface. We deployed the parachute sea anchor, and then all crew went below and battened the hatches. We were 30 nautical miles off Rottnest Island.