Renewable Energy Revolution

Any port in a storm

"None of them knew the color of the sky. Their eyes glanced level, and were fastened upon the waves that swept toward them. These waves were of the hue of slate, save for the tops, which were of foaming white, and all the men knew the colours of the sea. The horizon narrowed and widened, and dipped and rose, and at all times its edge was jagged with waves that seemed thrust up in points like rocks.

"Many a man ought to have a bathtub larger than the boat which here rode upon the sea. These waves were most wrongfully and barbarously abrupt and tall, and each froth-top was a problem in small-boat navigation." -- Stephen Crane, "The Open Boat: A Tale Intended After the Fact, Being the Experience of Four Men from the Sunk Steamer Commodore."

It is one of my favorite opening lines in literature, and those who know me well have heard it cited, usually when things are hectic and none of us know which way is up. And if I recall correctly from college English, Crane described the episode from personal experience, and the hardships he endured hastened his death at age 30.

Why was it "none of them knew the color of the sky"? Because their boat is overloaded in rough seas that threaten to swamp them any minute. The men are so busy bailing, rowing and struggling to avoid dangerous waves that none of them dare glance upward.

The Florida coast beckons in the horizon, a paradise more beautiful than any these men have seen. But while the shoreline is within view, getting there would require navigating through towering surf that might drown the men in the process.

I was reminded of Crane's story while reading news accounts of the loss of the fishing boat Lady of Grace, and of the deaths of its four crew. A front-page story in The Boston Globe was accompanied by a map of Nantucket Sound, shown at right,  showing where the sunken boat was found.

It looks close to the southeastern edge of the footprint for the Cape Wind project, I thought, and went to a Cape Wind map (shown beneath the Globe map) to check. If the Lady of Grace did not sink within the proposed Cape Wind array, it's pretty close. Either way, why is this significant?

I've noticed that Cape Wind supporters are occasionally just as unwilling as wind farm opponents to acknowledge when those who disagree with them make a valid point. And perhaps the best example of this has to do with navigation, or more narrowly, a specific aspect of navigation.

If I'm a Coast Guard helicopter pilot called to rescue the crew of a fishing boat in the middle of Nantucket Sound, especially in harrowing conditions, my chances of saving those men are greater  if I don't have to also worry about flying around 130 wind turbines. Yes, the blades can be stopped to reduce the risk, but the turbines themselves would remain assuredly fixed in place.

To argue that the turbines don't pose a potential hazard to a Coast Guard pilot in these circumstances seems naive at best and disingenuous at worst, like claiming you're no more likely to hit a tree while skiing if you happen to be on a slope with trees.

But by the same token, are wind farm opponents unwilling to acknowledge that in the specific circumstances confronting the crew of the Lady of Grace, struggling across  Nantucket Sound in a desperate race against time, that the sentinel-like presence of well-lit wind turbines just ahead, the base of their interiors stocked with food, water, warm clothes and emergency radios, could have meant the difference between life and death?